Screaming With My Mouth Shut
by TheVoiceInMyHead
Summary: Shane said he loved Mitchie more than anything. Shane said they were going to be together forever. Shane said a lot of things. Rated T for themes and language. COMPLETE.
1. Everything has changed

**Hello! :)  
So the idea for this story just came to me randomly one day. It's kind of different than what I would usually do, and I would realllly love it if you guys commented and told me what you thought, or what you think about the idea. I love reviews, and if you leave me one, I will love _you_! Okay I'm going to shut up now and let you read in peace! :)**

**Disclaimer: I really wish I owned something...but I don't.**

Chapter One

Everything has Changed

Shane said that he loved Mitchie more than anything. Shane said they were soul mates. Shane said that they were going to be together forever. Shane said a lot of things, and if any of those were true Mitchie Torres would not be in crumpled in the corner of his room, crying. She wouldn't have felt so betrayed and unloved.

It had happened again. Things got better since the last time, but Shane had gotten angry, and he exploded. It was more often now too, about once or twice a week. Luckily no one had noticed the marks, and Mitchie had gotten a lot better at covering them. She was hurting, and hated Shane for doing this to her. When they had met at Camp Rock, Mitchie thought she had met her Prince Charming, or her Knight in Shining Armour. How wrong she had been.

From her fetal position on the floor, Mitchie heard the bathroom tap go on. Undoubtedly Shane was washing away the evidence; the blood, _her _blood. Mitchie would have gotten up at this chance to escape and bolted out the door, but she couldn't move. The pain from the punches and hits still panged throughout every inch of her body, and she was still mentally unstable. Even if she could leave, Mitchie wouldn't have. Shane would kill her.

She stayed there, in that position, for minutes that felt like hours. Shane reemerged from the bathroom; he ignored Mitchie, pretending she didn't even exist, pretending that nothing had happened. He always was this way after it happened, always. He never cared. Shane lay down on his bed and watched TV. His face was emotionless. No trace of guilt or anger; nothing. Mitchie almost wished he was angry again, just to disprove how totally detached her boyfriend truly was. Mitchie studied him from where she was sitting and his head whipped around to look at her. She looked away quickly.

"Go to the bathroom and clean that shit up," His voice was cold and condescending, unlike the fake loving voice he used in front of the rest of the world. Unlike the real loving voice he used when they first met. Shane was different now, a totally dissimilar guy than the world knew him to be. He was a guy who was always angry, a guy who made Mitchie feel like shit, a guy who hit his girlfriend.

Mitchie slowly arose from her spot, grabbing her purse. She winced slightly from the pain in various places, and in her heart. She wanted Shane to love her; she wished he did everyday of her life. She didn't understand what she was doing wrong. Mitchie walked over to the bathroom and stepped inside, locking the door behind her. Her hair was a mess and tangled, but it wasn't worse off than her face. Her right cheek was bruising furiously, and in an hour she was certain it would a bright purple color. Her eye was still healing from the last time, and her nose was bleeding.

Turning on the tap, Mitchie sighed. When Shane would hit her, it was relatively easy to cover it up, with long sleeved shirts, and jeans. But when he hit her face, she would have to cake on makeup and concealer to hide all the marks. It was a long job, and frankly, Mitchie was wasting a lot of money on makeup.

She washed her face, splashing cool water on her burning skin. Some of the old makeup came off, and the blood from her nose washed off as well. Mitchie reached into her bag, and pulled out the dreaded makeup. It took a little while to get it on right, but after she was done, her face was normal again. Mitchie remembered the days that her face was like this without all the makeup. Sighing again, she got her comb and worked through her tangled hair. It didn't really work too well so she gave up and tied it up.

Mitchie figured she should have a look at the other bruises too, just so that she could have excuses for them made up, in case anyone saw them. She pulled off her sweatshirt and jeans, horribly sweaty apparel for summer, and did a double take. She had seen all these kinds of bruises and marks before, but she was always surprised.

An assortment of contusions lined both her legs, from Shane's kicks, and various ones spotted her arms, from her trying to defend herself. It was a ghastly sight, and Mitchie felt like crying all over again. Not from the pain, but from the fact that someone who claimed to love her so much did this to her. She held her tears back though, not wanting to ruin her makeup. Mitchie quickly got dressed and reluctantly went back into Shane's room.

He was in the same spot, laying on his back, still emotionless, watching a stupid show on TV. Mitchie was disgusted by how calm Shane could be after what just happened. It was like nothing about the situation was wrong in his opinion, when everything about it was. He shouldn't be allowed to do this; he shouldn't get away with this. Mitchie stood in the doorframe, fuming. She wanted to hit him back, wanted to make him go through the pain she did. But Mitchie would do nothing if she knew what was good for her.

She wanted to go home, she wanted to get away from Shane. Mitchie took a step closer to him and cleared her throat.

"Um, Shane?"

"What?" He spoke so cold it sent shivers up her spine, but she kept her courage and moved on.

"Do you think, you know if you said yes, I could, um, go home?"

"Why?" He didn't even look up from the TV and Mitchie was trying to hide her frustration. She just wanted to get out of there.

"Um, because…my mom is coming home soon, and she thinks I'll be home. I don't want her to ask too many questions…" This was an utter lie, considering that ever since her parents divorced, Mitchie's mom worked all the time, and barely even spoke to her, let alone question her. But it seemed to have worked.

Shane looked at her, his face twisted in an annoyed way. "Fine, go."

Mitchie tried not to run out the door, and just keep it to a casual stroll. But she was so eager to get out of there, she was sure that she had.

"Bye Shane." No reply.

Mitchie left Shane's apartment and took the stairs down to ground level. She had no intention of going home, her mother wouldn't be there, and she loathed being there alone. Mitchie was already a nervous wreck because of Shane, and staying home alone for hours and hours wouldn't help that.

So she just wandered; with no intention of a destination. And she thought. About everything. The night her parents had their first fight, the night they told her they were divorcing. Meeting Shane for the first time, their first kiss. Camp Rock, her friends, Caitlyn. The first time Shane hit her, the makeup and the pain. Mitchie knew her life was terrible, and sometimes she wished for it to end. There was nothing to live for anymore. Not even her mom or friends. But she could never take her own life. Mitchie was too much of a wimp for that. Maybe Shane could kill her? He had threatened to do it enough times already.

Mitchie wandered on, not really paying attention to where she was going or what was going on around her. She didn't even notice that it was raining hard, and that she was getting drenched. When she did finally come out of her daze, the gloomy scene in front of her made her even more depressed. Mitchie's thoughts wandered and she remembered a time when it rained like this…at camp…

_-Flashback-_

_The thick raindrops pounded on Mitchie's cabin window. All camp activities had been canceled for the day because of the storm. Mitchie was bored to tears and the power was out too. What a day. She had done nothing since morning and was still in her pajamas, which she had no intention of changing out of soon. Her roommate this summer was Caitlyn, and she was dead to the world, still fast asleep sprawled out on her bed. Mitchie wished she could sleep like Caitlyn, heavily and for long periods of time. She glanced at her cell phone, the time was two-thirty and dinner wasn't for three and a half hours._

_Suddenly getting an idea, Mitchie speed dialed a familiar number on her phone. She waited for the rings to stop and for him to pick up. Sure, he was just a few cabins down, and she could have walked to talk to him, but she was too lazy and didn't want to get wet. _

"_Hey Mitch," _

"_Hey Shanie-wanie!"_

"_Oh come on Mitchie, you know I despise that name to no end…"_

"_Why do you think I call you it?"_

"_Oh please…" He chuckled, "So why did you call?"_

"_Ouch, a girl can't just call her boyfriend for the heck of it?"_

"_Not if it's you!" They both laughed this time, "No really, what's up?"_

"_I'm so bored, I want to do something! Come over here!"_

"_And risk messing up my hair? Never!"_

"_Shane!" Mitchie found herself giggling, "Please! Let's go somewhere!"_

"_Go somewhere? In this rain? And get soaked? Noooo thanks,"_

_Suddenly Mitchie had an idea…_

"_Hm…maybe we won't get soaked…do you know where Brown keeps his car keys?"_

"_Um…yeah…wait, what are you thinking?"_

"_Don't worry about it, just meet me behind the mess hall in fifteen minutes. Get his keys,"_

"_Mitchie-"_

"_Just do it, Shane. I promise it'll be worth it! Bye!"_

_About fifteen minutes later, Shane and Mitchie met up behind mess hall. Mitchie had changed out her pajamas and was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and Shane was clad in signature leather jacket. It was still raining harder than ever, so both of them had huddled under a small overhanging roof that was no bigger than just two people. The rain poured, only inches away from their bodies and Mitchie giggled. She loved the fact that she was so close to Shane she could hear him breathing. She loved that he was holding her tightly under his jacket. She loved how warm he was. She just wanted to melt into his strong arms and stay there forever._

"_Hey, what's so funny?" Shane looked down at the small girl wrapped in his arms and smiled._

_She looked at him, a smile plastered on her face, "Oh nothing…did you get them? The keys, I mean,"_

_Shane took a pair of shiny keys out of his pocket and waved them in front of her face. "Right here!"_

"_Good boy!" Mitchie jokingly patted him on the head, making it a point to mess up his hair. He didn't seem to care though. He just gazed at her lovingly. Mitchie smiled wide and slowly released herself from Shane's arms. _

"_Okay Shane, we have a car, we have each other, now let's roll! We could go to a theatre, or a mall? Hm…how about a nice little dessert place? I'm kind of in the mood for cheesecake-"_

_Mitchie was cut off by Shane's lips crashing onto hers. She was puzzled at his sudden action but when she realized what he was doing, she didn't push him away, instead she prolonged it. Mitchie's arms curled around Shane's neck and his hands wandered up and down her back. She was really getting into it, when Shane suddenly pushed the both of them out from under the overhang, and into the pouring rain. Mitchie almost pushed Shane away to dive for cover, but stopped herself. _

_A few blissful minutes later, Mitchie and Shane pried themselves away from each other and stood wrapped up in each other's arms. Both of them were now completely drenched and neither of them cared. They stared into each other's eyes; it was like a scene out of a movie. But Mitchie was curious to know why Shane had pushed them into the rain, when he was oh-so worried about getting wet not too long ago._

"_Shane?"_

"_Yeah, Mitch?"_

"_Why are we standing in the rain?"_

"_I've always wanted to kiss a girl in the rain…you know, like in Spiderman?"_

_Mitchie giggled, Shane was just too cute._

_-End of flashback-_

It was hard to distinguish Mitchie's tears from the rain pouring down her face. She had been standing in the same spot, in a flashback, for who knows how long. Her flashback would be a wonderful memory for any normal girl, remembering a time you and your boyfriend kissed in the rain, but for Mitchie, it was one of the most painful. It was of a time when Shane loved Mitchie, and she loved him.

Everything was different now.


	2. Caitlyn Always Knows

**Thank you to the four amazing people who reviewed last time! You totally made my day.  
So here is chapter two, I hope you guys like it!  
I will try and update faster, but you know how it is with school and stuff.  
Please review, I will love you forever!**

Disclaimer: From deep down, I wish I owned something...but I don't.

Chapter Two

Caitlyn Always Knows

Mitchie weaved through the small streets in the tiny neighborhood that she knew all too well. Her purse now hanging limply at her side was patting a continuous rhythm against her hip as she ran and her wet sneakers were squeaking on the newly paved cement. She dodged the occasional puddle and ran until she reached her destination. It had stopped raining, but the humidity hung in the warm air, and Mitchie was sweating underneath her sweatshirt. She had no idea what time it was and she didn't care. It looked to be late though, the sun was in the early stages of setting. Mitchie sighed and rapped on the door three times.

It seemed like forever waiting outside in the humid air, when it had only been a few seconds before the door creaked open to reveal a smiling Caitlyn.

"Hey Mitchie!"

"Hey Cait," Mitchie hadn't realized her voice was raspy from crying so much and running. Her hair was sticking to her face and her head hung slightly low. "Do you think I could come in for a bit?"

"Oh sure, of course! My parents are out and truth be told, I was getting a bit lonely,"

"Thanks," Caitlyn was such an amazing friend, Mitchie didn't deserve her. She walked up the step leading to the door, and walked inside her house. She loved being in the Geller's house, because unlike her own, it actually felt lived in and like a home. Caitlyn led her through the hall, and Mitchie discarded of her shoes, following closely behind. The hall they were in was decorated with many family photos, and the occasional piece of artwork from Caitlyn's early years. A few plaques hung as well, engraved with different achievements. Mitchie felt a tad envious; Caitlyn's family and life was perfect. Her parents were in love and they actually were home to see her, her boyfriend loved her a lot and she was becoming extremely successful fulfilling her dreams to be music producer. Well she was successful in the beginning stages anyway; she had already met the biggest producer out right now, Mark Jameson and he had given her a few pointers.

Caitlyn had led them into the kitchen. Mitchie took her usual seat on one of the bar stools, and quietly twiddled her thumbs as Caitlyn pulled out a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and two tall glasses from a cupboard. She watched her scurry around the kitchen, now fixing some snacks. Once or twice Mitchie thought she saw Caitlyn give her a weird look, but she shrugged it off.

"Hey Mitch, one ice or two?" Caitlyn was now standing at the freezer with a half full ice cube tray in her hand.

"Um…two please," Mitchie replied in a quieter tone. Caitlyn slowly nodded and gave her weird look again. Mitchie mentally slapped herself for making it seem like something was wrong, even though there really was. She didn't like talking about her problems since they mostly had to do with Shane, and she would never tell anyone about that. She couldn't.

Caitlyn set down the drinks and lemonade at the table, and took a seat beside Mitchie. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, sipped their drinks, and munched on the snacks. They both stared off into space, thinking about things in their own worlds.

"So, are you going to tell me where you got that bruise?" Caitlyn didn't even look at Mitchie when she said this. She kept staring into space, but Mitchie's head whipped around and stared at her wide-eyed. Her hand flew to the side of her face.

"Wh-what bruise?" Mitchie asked, trying to hide the panic in her voice. Caitlyn still didn't look at her.

"The one you're trying to hide with your hand," She replied calmly. Mitchie felt tears well up in eyes, but she dared not let them fall, it would ruin the makeup. _The makeup! _It had been raining…water and makeup are enemies! Mitchie quietly gasped and with eyes as round as tennis balls bore holes through the side of Caitlyn's head. She finally turned around to stare at Mitchie.

"By the way, the makeup job you attempted to cover it up is pretty lousy. Don't you know that rain and sweat take off makeup better than any makeup remover?"

Mitchie tried to stay calm, but that failed since she automatically broke down into a fit of sobs. Caitlyn didn't even seem surprised. She just rubbed her back until Mitchie was calm again.

When she finally was, she looked up at Caitlyn through blurry eyes. Mitchie wanted to just tell her everything, and confide in her best friend, ask her for help and advice, but she did her best to bite her tongue. Caitlyn watched her with a sad smile. Somehow Mitchie got the feeling that Caitlyn was looking right through her, into her head, where her deepest secrets hid.

"Caitlyn, I-"

Caitlyn held up her hand, silencing Mitchie.

"No, it's okay…obviously something bad happened. I shouldn't have demanded you to explain…it's cool if you don't want to tell me…"

This time it was Mitchie's turn to silence her. Before even thinking about what she was about to say, she blurted out,

"But, I _do _want to tell you. And I'm going to…right here, right now."

Mitchie took a deep breath, and looked Caitlyn in the eye. She began to speak quietly.

* * *

"Oh my god Mitchie…" Caitlyn was speechless, her face conveying a look or sadness, horror and disbelief. Mitchie nodded sadly.

She had just finished explaining what had been going on, from her parents to everything about Shane. Caitlyn buried her face in her hands and began to bawl. Her poor best friend…how could she have been so oblivious? Mitchie patted her back, and fought back fresh tears of her own. Caitlyn looked up at her touch and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. Mitchie didn't object in the least, and hugged her back just as hard. Caitlyn sobbed on her shoulder and Mitchie silently cried on Caitlyn's.

"Mitch, I am so sorry…" Mitchie just nodded again, unable to speak from crying. They finally let go of each other and stared at nothing in particular, both hopelessly lost in their own thoughts. Caitlyn didn't look Mitchie in the eye, but quietly said,

"You have to tell your mom."

Mitchie looked up, furious.

"No! I'm not telling my mom. She won't even care! Besides, I only see her for a couple hours a day, and even then she barely even acknowledges my existence! I'm not telling her anything."

"Then you have to tell someone else! This is bad Mitchie. Shane is crazy, and dangerous…he could really hurt you…"

"No… I'll deal with it…" Mitchie replied bluffing, she just wanted Caitlyn to drop it, "Until then you have to promise not to tell anyone. Okay?"

Caitlyn looked at her incredulously. She shook her head no.

"Caitlyn please! I'm not ready yet…I promise I'll tell someone," There she went lying again, "but you have to promise not to."

Caitlyn hesitated, but unsure what to do, slowly agreed. "I promise not to tell anyone…but I'm not making any promises that I'm not going to hurt Shane..."

Mitchie smiled for the first time that day. Caitlyn was such a good friend, she didn't deserve her.


	3. Another Night, Another Fight

**Thank you to the three people who reviewed last time. I love you guys!  
As for the rest of you, please review! I love hearing feedback, even if it's not always good.  
Anyway, here is chapter three! It's kind of intense!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Mitchie, Shane, Connie or Open by Demi Lovato.**

Chapter Three

Another Night, Another Fight

It was half past ten when Mitchie slowly creaked open the back door of her house. The kitchen was dark, and she peeked in, scanning the room for her mother. She was half an hour past curfew, and if her mother saw her, she would yell at her no doubt. Mitchie was much too tired for that.

Checking once more that her mother was not around; Mitchie crept in, discarding of her shoes on the welcome mat.

The kitchen was cold and the tiled floor felt like ice under Mitchie's bare feet. The air conditioning was always turned up in her house, even when no one was around. Her mother liked it that way. Still tiptoeing across the tiled tundra, Mitchie stole a glance in the living room, the walk in closet, and even Connie's bedroom to confirm her mother's whereabouts. However, realizing that she was nowhere to be found, Mitchie decided that she wasn't even home yet.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Mitchie (no longer tiptoeing) went back into the kitchen and flipped on the light. She strolled over to the fridge to get something to drink when big, red writing caught her eye on her mother's calendar.

Doing a double take, she walked back to it and read the writing.

"Jefferson Wedding!"

'_So that's where she is…' _Mitchie remembered that tonight was the night her mother was catering a huge wedding, and Connie had said, on one of their rare encounters, that she would be working really late tonight. Probably really early in the morning. Shrugging, Mitchie walked back over to the fridge. At least she could be alone for a bit to think over a few things.

Pulling open the refrigerator door, Mitchie sighed. Connie obviously hadn't gone grocery shopping yet, and the fridge was almost completely empty except for a carton of orange juice, some fruit and leftover cake from another wedding Connie had catered. You'd think that since it was her job to make lots of food, there'd be something in there, but considering the fact that she was never home, the fridge was always empty. Mitchie reluctantly pulled out the cake and juice, and then settled down on the couch in the den.

She flipped on the TV, and began to channel surf. The only thing on that was even remotely interesting was a special on wild bears, so Mitchie gave up and decided to go to bed early, she had a lot to think about.

As she stepped into the small bathroom, she did a double take on her appearance. The bruise on her face had gotten a lot worse, and if it hadn't been dark when she was walking home, people would have definitely said something. Mitchie didn't what she was going to say if her mom had been home. At least there was some consolation for her mom's frequent absence. Her eye was a lot better from yesterday, but her disheveled hair and sloppy clothes brought her spirits right back down.

Grabbing a comb, Mitchie attempted her best to pull through all the knots without breaking too much hair, but it was utterly hopeless. Continuing her effort anyway, she silently cursed Shane for doing this to her. Not just tangling her hair, but everything. Her hair, her pain…her life. Shane had taken all of these things and more away from Mitchie and it wasn't fair. They weren't his to take.

But what could Mitchie do? Absolutely nothing.

She finished cleaning up, and then put on her pajamas. By now, it was close to 11:30, and Mitchie was very tired. Slipping under her soft, cozy covers, Mitchie thought to herself.

Her room was dark, and cluttered but the pleasant familiarity always soothed Mitchie and helped her think over things. Whenever Shane and her were having problems she would always come in here to think. She found herself coming in here a lot more often now.

She sighed deeply. Her face was still sore and her eyes hurt from crying so much. Frankly, Mitchie was tired, and just wanted to sleep and forget all about today. All about Shane, and her mom, and everyone else except Caitlyn. But, of course thinking about forgetting them just made her think about them even more.

Sighing once more, and rolling onto her side, Mitchie slowly let her eyes droop. Just as she was about to fall into a peaceful sleep, she was woken up by a ridiculously loud banging on the front door.

It took her a few seconds to register what it was but when she realized, she bounded down the steps and to the door. It was much too dark out to see through the peephole so she just went ahead and opened it. Mitchie was utterly surprised at what she saw.

There stood a soaked, fuming Shane Grey.

Shane never came to her house. Never, never, never. Not unless you counted that one time he came to pick her up for a date.

He pushed Mitchie aside from where she was standing and came in to her house uninvited. She banged into a wall, but didn't say a word. She locked the door and looked at Shane.

"Um, hi…"

"Shut the hell up Mitchie. Don't talk."

Mitchie looked at her shoes.

"You're a liar Mitchie, a fucking liar. I can't believe you."

Mitchie burned holes through her shoes with her eyes. She couldn't look at Shane.

"I came by to see if you got home, and you know what I see? HUH DO YOU?"

Mitchie didn't dare breathe. She was scared, and tears threatened to spill over.

Shane was getting frustrated.

"Look at me you stupid idiot! Look at me!"

He reached over and none too gently pushed her chin up to stare at him. Mitchie looked at him, and the first tear fell. His hand was roughly grabbing her chin and it was starting to hurt.

"I come by, and I see you, but not your mother! You said you were fucking coming home to your mother, and she's not even here. You lied to me, didn't you? You just wanted to get away from me! It's not that easy, bitch, now is it?"

By now tears were falling fast, and Mitchie couldn't even muster up any energy to wipe them away. Shane had caught her in her lie, and there was no getting out of it.

"Answer me! RIGHT NOW. You lied didn't you?" Shane stared at her maniacally.

Mitchie closed her eyes and nodded her head the best she could. After all, Shane's hand was still death gripping her face.

His gave her a disgusted look, and dropped his hand. Mitchie's own hand flew to her chin and she rubbed it. It was really hurting.

Shane turned his back to her and ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. He turned back around so fast though, Mitchie didn't even see his hand flying towards her face. When it made contact, she fell back from the impact. Mitchie was dazed and didn't even understand what had just happened, but looking up at Shane made her.

She found some energy, and got up, only to be hit again, and again. Shane was fuming and couldn't stop.

He threw punches and slaps here and there, but Mitchie didn't even whimper. She was fighting to stay strong.

He finally stopped after what felt like hours. He had left Mitchie in a crumpled mess on the floor and gone wordlessly. She didn't really expect him to stick around and help her up or anything. Anyway, she wouldn't have exactly wanted him to.

Mitchie trudged up the stairs for a second time that night. This time it was a lot harder though because she was hurting in so many places. When she finally got up the stairs, she flew into her bed and turned off all the lights. It was pitch black and Mitchie was huddled under the covers. Quietly she sung herself to sleep.

"_And why can't I_

_get through the night, _

_without another fight, _

_I'm tired of the hurting."_


	4. An Unexpected Friend

**Hello, hello!  
This is chapter four! Two updates, in two days, I'm, amazing right? :)  
I think this chapter is pretty random, but oh well... as long as you guys like it, I'll like it.**

**BTW, I will greatly appreciate reviews and ideas for what you guys think should happen! :P**

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!

Chapter Four

An Unexpected Friend

Mitchie couldn't understand in the least bit why she was here. Why she always got herself into these situations. If she went in, the inevitable would happen, but for some reason, she was back again. She sighed at her own stupidity.

Apartment 224. Shane's place. Mitchie stood outside the familiar door, but avoided it like it was the black plague. She didn't want to be here, she'd be setting herself up for failure, but somehow, she could always convince herself to come crawling to Shane again. Why? Even she couldn't answer that question.

Shane didn't love Mitchie, but somewhere, deep inside, oddly enough, Mitchie still felt a twisted form of affection for him. It broke her heart to think that all he wanted from her was someone to beat up on, but no one else would want her anyway. Shane told her she could never get another guy, she wasn't pretty enough. She didn't believe him at first, but now, Mitchie believed it more and more.

Mitchie closed her eyes, and thought about Shane's angry face last night, and what he had done to her. Coming here, and trying to apologize was like an invitation from him to hit her again. It was a bad idea, and Mitchie turned to leave. She walked fast down the hall, tearing up a little, and looked down at her feet. She made her way to the elevators, and didn't even see who had come out. She knocked into the person at full force and both of them toppled over.

"Hey, watch where you're go- Mitchie?" Mitchie looked up at the person she had so mercilessly knocked over. There sat Nate Richards, Shane's best friend. He was wearing a casual button down shirt, and a pair of jeans. Clad in his signature diabetes dog tag, he smiled.

"I'm so sorry Nate," Mitchie apologized in a small voice, "I'm sorry,"

"Hey, don't worry about it." Nate stood up and brushed himself off then reached a hand down to Mitchie, "Happens all the time,"

Smiling weakly, Mitchie took Nate's hand and quietly apologized again. She stood up and looked at him awkwardly. Nate's eyebrows furrowed.

"Mitch, have you been crying?"

Mitchie quickly brushed away the tears that were about to fall, and mustered up a pathetic 'no'. Nate didn't look convinced. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Mitchie, how long have I known you? Since a long time. I think I know when one of my friends have been crying." He smiled softly.

Mitchie smiled back, just as softly. There was a time, back at Camp, that Mitchie had decided she liked Nate. He was attractive, charming and such a gentleman. Sometimes, she would watch him going from class to class and study the way he talked, and moved. When he was near, she wasn't able to breathe. Then she met Shane and like the dimwit she is, fell for him. Studying him now, Mitchie realized she still felt a bit of the flutter in her stomach that she felt the first time she met him. Maybe it was just because he had been so caring, or the fact that he still hadn't let go of her hand.

Mitchie cleared her throat awkwardly and glanced down at her hand. Nate realized he was still holding it and shot it back. He scratched his head uncomfortably.

_He looks so cute embarrassed. What? No. Mitchie you can't think this about NATE. Shane would kill you. _

After a couple moments of silence, Nate spoke up.

"So, I guess you were here to see Shane, right?" Mitchie groaned inwardly thinking about Shane. "Don't let me hold you back, I was just going there too."

Mitchie sighed; she didn't want to see Shane. At all. So she lied.

"Um, I already knocked. I don't think he's in there." She laughed nervously. Nate looked confused.

"Wow, really? I called him to ask if I could come over and borrow his amp, and he said to come…strange. Then again, Shane has been acting quite strange lately."

Mitchie pushed hair behind her ears, and nodded like this was all new to her. Nate had no idea.

"Well then, since it's just you and me, want to have lunch? I have no plans, and you look like you need some cheering up," Mitchie grinned. Nate was such a sweetheart.

"Okay, I'm free too." Nate nodded his head and clicked the elevator button to go back downstairs. He smiled at Mitchie again, and then reached to touch her face. He was rubbing his thumb against her cheek. Her bruise.

"Looks like you have some dirt or something on your cheek."

Mitchie swatted his hand away none too gently. He looked surprised. She fake giggled to lighten the mood. Truthfully, he was rubbing it sort of hard and it hurt. She guessed she hadn't covered the bruise completely this morning and made a mental note to do that later.

They rode in the elevator, and caught up on old times. Aside from Caitlyn, Mitchie hadn't had a real conversation in forever. She loved talking to him. He was so genuine and interesting. She wondered why he didn't have a girlfriend.

They got in Nate's car and drove to a small little bistro near the edge of town. They ate, laughed and rekindled their once very strong friendship. You see, when Shane 'changed' he stopped letting Mitchie hang out with her friends, especially guys, and that made no exception to Nate. She had to sneak around just to talk to Caitlyn. It was nice to have him back. For how long though, Mitchie wasn't sure.

After they finished lunch, Nate drove Mitchie home. They pulled up in the empty driveway, and Mitchie made no move to get out. Instead she smiled sluggishly at Nate, a drunk happy look on her face.

"Thank you so much for that. I really needed it."

He smiled at her. "No problem, Mitch. It seemed like you did."

She looked down for a second and then back up at him. Mitchie leaned over and embraced him in a tight hold. He was a little shocked at first, but he embraced with just as much of a squeeze. He smiled into her hair. She felt his breath on her neck.

Then Mitchie heard his soft voice breathe into her ear. "Mitch, please call me if you need to talk to me. I can tell something is bothering you, and you've changed too. I won't pressure you to tell me what's up, but I just know you're upset. You're not that bubbly girl I met at camp. If you are ever really troubled or upset, like you were today, just call me and I'll be there. I'm your friend, and I will always be there for you, honey."

She closed her eyes, and willed herself not to start the water works again. Mitchie pulled away, and put on a fake smile.

"Don't worry about me Nate, I'm perfectly fine."

There she went lying again.


	5. He knows

**Okay guys, here is chapter 5! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! It will make my day!  
Oh yes, and if any of you have any ideas for future chapters let me know! ;)  
BTW, sorry it's so short, and that I took so long to update. SEVERE WRITER'S BLOCK.**

**Disclaimer: Dear God, I wish owned at least ONE of these characters...but I don't.**

Chapter Five

He knows

The lunch Nate and Mitchie had ran through her mind like a broken record. She pondered why such a sweet guy like him was friends with such a jerk like Shane. Oh that's right, because Shane was only a jerk around Mitchie. To the rest of the world, he was perfect Shane with the perfect relationship.

_Perfect my ass. _

She picked at her cereal. Connie had left only seconds prior, and barely even acknowledged Mitchie's presence. She didn't really care though, not like Mitchie had anything to say to her. Her stomach groaned and she decided not to eat the cereal, it looked diseased anyway. Getting up, Mitchie sauntered over to sink and watched the Frosted Flakes make their way down the drain. It reminded her of how her life was slowly being sucked away as well.

She shrugged off the thought and wondered what to do today. Last summer had been so fun; she had gone to Camp Rock and been with her friends, but this summer the Camp had been closed for maintenance, and Mitchie was bored as hell.

So she wandered up to her room and looked around. It was messy, and needed a good clean. Mitchie started from her closet and moved to other side of the room. She threw clothes into a pile and tossed papers and such into the trash. On her hands and knees, she fished things out from under her bed and tossed them away as well. It was tiring and pretty dull, but at least it was keeping her preoccupied.

As she cleaned some more, she wandered upon her scrapbook from Camp Rock last year. Her friends had given it to her as a birthday present during camp and Mitchie hadn't seen it for ages. Putting down the trash in her hand, Mitchie sat cross-legged on her bed and flipped open to the first page. There, huge, sparkly writing read 'Happy Sweet 16 Mitchie! From Caitlyn, Lola, Barron, Sander, Ella, Peggy, Tess, Nate, Jason and Shane.'

Mitchie smiled sadly thinking about her wonderful friends. She traced over each name with her index finger, and found it lingering over the last, 'Shane'. She pulled it off the page and giggled at how each person's signature really reflected his or her personalities.

Tess's signature was pink and flirty, while Nate's was simple and kind of serious. Jason had signed in all lowercase with a pencil crayon, and Caitlyn had signed with a neon pink pen and added a 'rock on' to the end of it. Mitchie couldn't help but grin. She flipped the page.

The next couple of pages had endless amounts of pictures and comments from each of her friends. A picture of Tess and Mitchie hugging was decorated with BFF stickers. She smiled at how funny they both looked, it had been at a sleepover in Tess's cabin and they had just finished a pillow fight. Both of their hair was messed up and their faces were red from laughing so much. Mitchie remembered how Tess had become her friend after her first year at Camp and all that drama. After that, she apologized and they were inseparable; it sucked not to be able to see her that much.

Other pictures showed Jason making funny faces, Caitlyn and Mitchie pulling a prank on Barron, and there was even a picture of Shane caught in his boxers. Mitchie laughed loudly to herself and wiped the tears away from her eyes. But she stopped laughing as soon as she saw that one picture.

The picture that always made her heart flutter and her palms get sweaty. Now, it just made her tears want to change from happy to devastated. It was a picture of Shane and Mitchie. Together. Smiling, happy. It was a simple picture, but it broke her heart. Although not as much as the comment underneath it.

_Mitch, baby, happy sweet 16!  
Have an amazing time, and live it up!_

_I hope you LOVE my present and the surprise party tonight!  
OOPS, did I just let that slip?_

_Don't tell Caitlyn, she'll murder me._

_Love always and forever, _

_Shanie-wanie_

Sure, it was not exactly a romantic love letter, but still. It was a remnant of the old Shane Grey and how much he cared for Mitchie. She sighed thinking about the 'good old days'.

Mitchie flipped through the rest of the book, and closed it when it was finished. The last picture was that of the whole gang together at Final Jam. Mitchie lay back on her bed. If only Camp Rock was open this summer, she could be with all her friends. She missed them so much. Sure, she had Caitlyn and Nate, but that couldn't replace the whole gang together. Mitchie felt lonely.

Before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep. Her eyes drooped shut and she clutched onto the scrapbook like a teddy bear. Her breathing became slow and she floated off to dreamland…

Mitchie was awoken by her cell phone ringing loudly on her bedside table. She rubbed the drowsiness from her eyes. Who could be calling her? She leaned over and picked up her phone but by the time she had it in her hand, it stopped ringing. She looked and saw the message '12 missed calls – Caitlyn'. Caitlyn? Why was she calling so much?

She dialed in her friend's number but before she could hit send, it started ringing again. Caitlyn. Mitchie took a deep breath and pressed talk.

"Caitlyn, what in the world-"

"MITCHIE!"

"Whoa, what? Why did you call me 12 times? I was sleeping, you know!"

"Listen, Mitchie, please,"

Mitchie grew quiet at Caitlyn's frantic tone. She seemed really anxious.

"Mitch, Shane is here. At my house."

"WHAT? WHY?"

"Mitchie, I don't know how, but he knows you were here the other day. And he's not happy about it…"

"Oh god…are you okay? Did he do anything to you?"

"No, he just yelled so far. I've locked myself in the bathroom though, just in case…"

"Cait, I'm coming. Hold on okay?"

Mitchie started to climb off her bed.

"No, Mitch, don't. He'll tear you apart. He's _really _mad right now."

"Oh my goodness…just for coming over?" Mitchie felt like screaming.

"Uh…I don't think that's it…"

Mitchie froze on the other line waiting for Caitlyn to continue.

"Mitchie. I think Shane knows."

She gulped, hoping what she was understanding was wrong. "Knows what?"

"He knows that I know."


	6. I'll Be There For You

**SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. I'm a real jerk, aren't I? Well, I hope this chapter makes you forgive me!  
This story sure is turning out to be different than I thought.. I hope you all like where it's going. Oh yeah, for all the pairing questions...this could most possibly be a NITCHIE...or Smitchie. :P I haven't really decided yet.**

Chapter Six

I'll Be There For You

Shane said that he loved Mitchie more than

Mitchie paced back and forth. This was a mess. A colossal, complicated mess. And she didn't know how to fix it.

Caitlyn had just hung up on the phone with her saying that she should go to see if Shane had calmed down. Knowing him, Mitchie knew for a fact that he would be even angrier. She was scared for her friend. But not one solution came to her mind.

Sure, Mitchie could waltz over there and get the crap beaten out of her, but she really didn't want Caitlyn alone with that monster. For all she knew, he could crack and go after her. This really was a mess.

Then suddenly the simplest solution came to her mind like a flash of lightning. Nate.

Whipping out her phone, Mitchie's fingers clicked each number, robotically. She had his number memorized by heart. She anxiously waited as the ringing seemed to go on forever. After a couple of agonizing seconds, she heard his voice.

"Hey Mitchie,"

"Nate, listen, I need you to go over to Caitlyn's house and get Shane."

"Huh? What, why?"

"We, uh, had a disagreement, and he thought I was over there…but I don't want to see him…"

Mitchie mentally slapped herself. Even she didn't believe that story.

Nate hesitated before answering again. "Okay…why can't he drive himself?"

"Because, he's, uh, really upset right now…"

"Right…Mitchie please tell me what really happened."

Nate knew her much too well. Mitchie was getting frustrated.

"Please just do it Nate! Didn't you say you would help me?"

The moment those harsh words slipped from her mouth, she wanted to take them back.

"Alright, I'll do it... but I would've at least expected the truth in favor."

Mitchie breathed a sigh of relief but when she heard the dial tone and realized Nate had hung up, felt a little depressed. Nate was always so sweet and caring, and she had just lied to him and yelled at him. What kind of a friend was she compared to him? I'll tell you; a bad one.

She threw her cell down on her bed and continued pacing. All she could now was wait until it was all over.

No more than an hour later, Mitchie's phone rang again. It was Caitlyn. Nervously, she pushed the talk button, dreading to hear what had happened.

"He's gone. Nate came and took him home. I was so scared."

Mitchie let go of the breath she wasn't aware she was holding. Everything was okay.

"That's good. Although, I don't know what I'm going to do if he comes here…Nate sure won't come to my rescue again. He probably hates me."

"He did seem distracted…what happened?" Caitlyn asked.

"Well, I lied to him about why Shane needed to be picked up. He knew that I did, and then I spazzed at him. All he was trying to do was help." She frowned thinking of what happened before. Nate was always a good friend to her, and she repaid him by lying, keeping secrets and yelling at him.

"Mitch, did you tell him? About…you know…"

"NO! And the only reason he's probably mad at me is because I didn't. He can't know."

"I won't say anything… but if you told him maybe he could talk to Shane or something."

Mitchie knew that Caitlyn was right; she always was. But, she couldn't bring herself to tell Nate, as much as she wanted to. Maybe she thought that it would scar her innocent friend, or maybe she just didn't want to hurt him, or have him get hurt. Nate would do anything to help her, even if it meant he would get hurt. Mitchie was already damaged enough for the both of them.

She warily hung up with Caitlyn, and tried not to punch herself in the face. Mitchie had picked up the phone and solved one problem, but by hanging up, she had another. Nate deserved to know what was going on. He really did. But Mitchie couldn't tell him. Or at least she couldn't bring herself to.

She thought about the concept of telling him in her mind over and over again. Mitchie played every single scenario, and came to the conclusion that she should just tell him despite her hesitant feelings. He could help her, and even though it was selfish of her to heap all her problems on this boy, he ought to know. Her hand shook with nervousness and found her phone again.

_Redial, redial…just click it. It's not that hard. _

Mitchie breathed heavily, as if she had run a marathon. Her heart pulsed in her hands and it seemed as though time had stopped. She clenched her eyes shut, and before she could back out of it, smashed her thumb down on the redial key. She raised it to her ear. The ringing pierced her eardrum and she anxiously pulled at loose thread.

It was almost as if Nate wasn't going to pick up, but before the relief could wash over Mitchie, she heard his voice for a second time that night.

"Hello?" It was quiet, and it was quite possible he was still pissed off.

Mitchie opened her mouth, and groped around her brain for a reply but no sound came out.

"Hello? Mitchie?"

She breathed out, and she uttered a meek reply.

"Hi Nate."

There was small silence on the other end until he spoke again. "Do you know what time it is?"

Glancing over at the digital clock on her beside table, Mitchie realized it was close to midnight. She winced at the harshness in his voice.

"I'm sorry. I really am."

Nate scoffed, "What are you sorry for?"

Mitchie felt the corners of her eyes dampen, and she was on the brink of tears. "I lied to you."

"Well, I know that. But I'm not going to ask you to explain about Shane. I've kind of known there was something weird going on between you two for a while. Shane's been…different. It's up to you to tell me."

"Nate, you don't understand. I really want to…but I don't know where to start."

"No, Mitchie, I don't think you want to. If I was really like your best friend, you should have not had to lie to me. You should've talked to me, you know all I want is to help."

"That's just it! You're so kind, and innocent, I don't want to hurt you! I can't tell you because I'm afraid of breaking your heart."

Nate sighed and paused for a few seconds. "If I was there right now with you, I'd wipe away your tears."

She looked up shocked, "How do you know I'm crying?" Mitchie gave up trying to cover her tears. She sniffed.

"Trust me, Mitchie, I know these things, I know you…and don't ever worry about breaking my heart. You could never."

There was silence on both ends. Mitchie was trying to comprehend what Nate had just said, and Nate was pondering why that had just slipped out.

Nate spoke up, "So…I think I'm going to go now. This is kind of awkward."

Mitchie's breath hitched in her throat.

"No! Don't… your voice makes me happy." Mitchie had no idea where that came from either. But she didn't take it back.

Nate smiled and lay down on his bed, not in the least bit creeped out.

"Then I'll talk all night."


	7. Letters and Screams

**Here it is! Chapter 7 of Screaming With My Mouth Shut. I really hope you guys like this chapter. It's my longest and most dramatic one yet. It's pretty 'intense'. SO READ AND REVIEW! :)**

Chapter Seven

Letters and Screams

Mitchie awoke to the shrill sound of her mother's voice.

"Mitchie Torres! Get up! How many times do I have to tell you?"

She rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of the blurriness. Her digital clock read 10:45 am. For a summer day, that was way to early. Nevertheless, the stretched and climbed out of bed.

Padding her way over to her bathroom, Mitchie did her usual morning routine, then headed down stairs, to find her mom gone without a goodbye…as usual. She rolled her eyes at her mother's obliviousness and grabbed a cereal bar.

It was a clear, sunny day, and Mitchie watched the clouds roll by from her stool at the island in her kitchen. The sun's warmth radiated through the glass, kissing her bare forearms and legs. Mitchie closed her eyes sinking it all in.

Her mind wandered to a place, a magical place, where nothing bad happened. It was a camp, just like Camp Rock, but no classes. Her friends and her wandered aimlessly, lazily drinking in the sun. They laughed, and talked, and then he joined them. By he, she meant Nate. His top buttons on his shirt idly unbuttoned, and his curls effortlessly messy. He looked like a Roman God, prancing into her daydreams on a white horse. Then he came. This time, by he, she meant Shane.

He slapped her in front of all her friends and Nate. He dragged her away, her friends didn't even try to stop him. Shane dragged Mitchie to the lake and threw her in. He kept her down, she was drowning…suffocating…

Mitchie's eyes shot open, her arms and legs were now covered in goose bumps. She shivered thinking of what she had just imagined. The one way Mitchie was terrified of dying was by drowning. Mitchie never learned to swim, and didn't want to. The water just looked murky, and too mysterious. She was scared of what she couldn't see down there. Even in public pools. Mitchie rubbed her arms with her hands, shaking off the thought for good. Getting up, her bare feet slapped against the tiled floor as she made her way to garbage to throw away her cereal bar wrapper. But when she looked into the can, she was speechless.

There, sitting there for anyone to see, were letters. Unopened, still in the envelopes. Thrown away, carelessly. It got Mitchie angry to see that someone had taken the time to handwrite a letter, and her mother had just thrown them away. But what she saw next got her even more fired up. They were addressed to _her_, Mitchie Torres. The slanted writing spelled out her name clearly. Without thinking, she reached in and grabbed them. A whole stack, twenty at least.

She mindlessly made her way over to the couch, flipping through them while walking. Each one was addressed exactly the same, but with different dates. The oldest one was from early last year. Flopping down, Mitchie stared at the pile in her lap. Who were they from? Why did the writing look so familiar? She could recognize the curves of the cursive, and the dots on every I, but the name of the person who's writing this belonged to escaped her.

Being able to wait no longer, Mitchie ripped open the envelope. She skimmed the letter, barely reading it, and then flipped it over to the name on the back. Her jaw dropped.

There, in that finely printed cursive it read:

"Michelle, I hope that despite this divorce and your mother's intentions,

we may still keep in touch through letters. It's hard living across the country,

and not being able to see your smiling face everyday. I love you.

Always, Dad."

Mitchie burned, literally. Her face was turning hot, and she wanted to scream. What right did her mother have to keep her dad's letters away from her? He couldn't call, knowing her mother would never let him speak to her, and emails were out of the question (he wasn't very tech savvy).

The only way he could communicate with Mitchie was through these letters, and her mother had ruined that too. Mitchie was beyond pissed. She cussed at her mother out loud and screamed, and kicked.

When she had calmed down, Mitchie sat back down and ripped open each letter. She read every single one. Her dad cared about her so much, unlike her mom. If only she was with him. Then there would no lonely nights, no Shane problems, nothing. She could be happy. This was big. She needed to say something to her mom, and was going to. Tonight.

Connie clicked open the lock to her home at about 12:45 that night. Mitchie sat in the living room, on the couch staring at the door. Stepping in, she saw her daughter's stony face staring at her. Confused, Connie put her things down, and made her way to couches. She stood in front of Mitchie, with her arms crossed.

"Why are you still awake? Go to bed, right now."

Mitchie looked up, still expressionless. "No."

Connie was surprised, but narrowed her eyes at her daughter. "What did you say? GO TO BED. NOW."

"No. Sit down, mother. I have something to say to you."

Connie was flabbergasted at her usually quiet daughter's words. Unable to react, she sat down across from her. Mitchie stood up, hiding the letters behind her back.

Clearing her throat, she began.

"Who in hell, do you think you are?"

Connie began to respond but Mitchie cut her off.

"You are an evil bitch, you know that? How dare you!"

"What the hell are talking about Michelle? And how dare _you_ speak to me like that!"

"I don't care. At all. I don't give a fuck." Connie gasped at Mitchie's words.

"You tried to keep my and my father apart!" Mitchie yelled, throwing down the letters, "You tried to make it seem like he didn't love me!"

Connie stared at the letters, searching for words. Mitchie went on,

"I hate you! He loves me more than you ever did or will! I can't believe you hid these letters from me! They're mine! Can't you read my name on the front? They're addressed to me!"

Connie stood up and looked Mitchie square in the eyes. Mitchie breathed heavily, and Connie stared at her, not blinking.

"Don't you dare yell at me. You live in my house, eat my food, so you'll obey my rules. And you will never speak to your father. Now go upstairs, and go to bed."

Mitchie's jaw tightened. "Fine, but think about this. You have no right whatsoever, to keep me from him, and you can damn well assume I will be writing to him. How can you be so evil? If it is your battle, why am I the victim?"

And with that, Mitchie snatched the letters and went to her room, slamming the door behind her. Connie sat down, tears forming in her eyes. As much as she hated to admit it, everything her daughter had said was true.

* * *

Mitchie got no sleep that night, and when the sun arose over the horizon, and the first ray of light touched her window, she was out of bed. Wandering downstairs, she checked for her mother, but there was no sign of her. Mitchie was still pissed off from last night, and didn't want to even look at her face.

She crept down the stairs, but by the time she reached the bottom, she was sure her mother was not home. Connie's shoes were even gone. Sighing loudly, Mitchie went into the living room, and grabbed the remote. She flipped on the TV, but something on the coffee table caught her eye. A little piece of paper, folded in half, with her name on the front.

Mitchie picked it up and unfolded it. There, on the piece of paper were four words:

"I'm really sorry.

Mom."

Scoffing, Mitchie scrunched it up and threw it on the floor. Connie was never really sorry for anything she did.

She got up, changed her clothes and ate some breakfast, all the while replaying last night in her mind. Mitchie Torres called her mom a bitch. She had said she hated her. Mitchie told her she didn't give a fuck. She had no idea where this anger, and slur of words had come from, but she was glad said it. Someone needed to tell her.

About an hour later, Mitchie heard a knock at the door. Hoping it would be Caitlyn, maybe Nate or anyone but her mother, Mitchie shot up and raced to answer it. Forgetting check the peephole, Mitchie threw the door open with a smile on her face, but when she saw who was there, her smile was instantly replaced with a frown.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me?" Shane said, smirking.

Mitchie gulped, and stared at him, unable to speak.

"As you know, I was at your best friend's house the other day, because you had visited her after I told you not to. You're a bad girl, Torres."

Mitchie tried not to look scared, but failed miserably.

Shane continued, "Well, you sent Saint Nate after me, and I ended up looking like an idiot. I don't like looking like an idiot, Michelle, I thought you knew that." With every word, he became more and more menacing. Mitchie was shaking. Shane stepped forward and took her wrist off the door handle and squeezed it hard. His jaw was tight and his eyes blazing.

Pushing Mitchie out of the way, he came into her house and locked the door behind him. He advanced towards Mitchie, angrily glaring at her.

"I think it's time you learn a lesson on how I operate Mitchie."

Shane was face to face with her, when suddenly he pushed her down. Her head hit the wall and she dropped down on her back. Mitchie's head was spinning and it throbbed something awful.

Shane leaned down on top of her, and whispered in her ear.

"Try not to scream."

The last thing Mitchie Torres heard before she blacked out, was the sound of Shane Gray unzipping his pants.

* * *

** So. Shane raped Mitchie. Please review and tell me what an ass Shane is.  
R&R love.**

**-TheVoiceInMyHead :)**


	8. Falling Fast

**I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT GUYS! :(  
To you the truth, I was putting off writing this chap because it's long and important! I'm so lame...-_-  
SO yeah...review :)**

**Disclaimer: I only own Nick Jonas! GAHH I WISH :P**

Chapter 8

Falling Fast

The tiny streams of water flowing from the shower head pounded against Mitchie's skin. She was staring into space, her eyes hued a dull red, barely noticing how hot the water actually was and how hard it was actually pounding down. She had her knees pulled to her chest, sitting in the corner of the tub.

It had been three days. Three horrible days since it had happened. She felt empty; dirty, even. Mitchie had barely slept these past two nights, because whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the devil's face.

'_I think it's time you learn how I operate, Mitchie'. _

'_Try not to scream'._

Her head replayed his menacing voice over and over like a broken record.

Mitchie winced and pulled her knees impossibly closer, shivering under the boiling water. She felt like her life was over. He had destroyed her, taken away her innocence. Shane Gray had ruined Mitchie, and she was pathetically broken. However, she felt nothing towards him. Nothing. She was empty.

Anyone other person would be plotting murder. They would be searing, wanting to kill Shane. Mitchie was emotionless; a rock. The same time he had taken her innocence, he had taken her soul too. Mitchie's soul was in the dirty palms of Shane Gray.

Sighing, she leaned over and turned the water off. The pool of water around her slowly shrunk, being sucked down the drain. Slowly rising to her feet, Mitchie caught herself from falling over against the wall, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Telling herself it was because she had gotten up too quickly, Mitchie preceded to get out of the tub, but in the back of her mind, she knew it was because she hadn't had anything to eat for about…three days. Pushing the thought out of her mind, Mitchie dried herself down and put on some pajamas. Eating was a waste of time, energy.

Creeping down the hall, as to avoid her mother's bedroom, Mitchie made her way to her room. She hadn't spoken to her mother since that day, and didn't want to. Truthfully, Mitchie was still upset with her, but she just didn't feel like to anyone in general. The other day, Caitlyn had called and she had made an excuse about having to some chores. For three days, Mitchie had cut herself off from everyone, Nate had called about 10 times, but she didn't want to talk to him. He would see through her like glass, and he already suspected something going on between her and Shane.

Oh, Shane. Speaking of the devil, the dirty bastard had pretended like nothing even happened. He showed up at her freaking house! Her mom had been home though and she told him she thought Mitchie was sick and it was better if she got her sleep. At least her mom was good for that one thing. So Shane left, but he called her cell continuously.

And Mitchie ignored it continuously.

Closing her bedroom door, Mitchie got under her covers and closed her bedside lamp. She didn't even care that her hair was still dripping, she just wanted to go to sleep; for this day to be over. She almost fell asleep too, except she was reawoken by a light tapping at her door.

"Michelle? Mitchie?"

It was her mother. One of the last people she wanted to see.

Shutting her eyes even tighter, Mitchie silently begged her mom to go away. The tapping at her door continued.

"Honey, I need to talk to you."

Honey? Who was this?

"I'm coming in."

Oh, god. Mitchie sunk lower under the covers and squeezed her eyes so tight that it hurt. The corner of her mattress sunk under her mother's weight and the light went on.

"Mitchie, I know you're not asleep. Please look at me."

Giving up, Mitchie threw the covers off her face and glared at her mother, her lips forming a thin line. Connie's face immediately lightened up.

"Ah, there's that beautiful face."

Mitchie rolled her eyes and turned over, so her back was facing her mom. Connie sighed.

"Okay, Mitch, I get it, you're still mad at me. But please hear me out."

When there was no reply, she continued on.

"I know had no right to keep those letters from you. They were rightfully yours and I'm sorry."

Mitchie cocked an eyebrow.

"What you said, about being the victim in another's war, was completely right. I'm so sorry that I involved you in your father's and my problem. It was childish and stupid. So, I'm not going to have a problem with it, if you write to him, or call him. It's none of my business."

Connie stopped and waited for a hug, or a squeal from her daughter but nothing came. Confused, she asked,

"What, no squealing? No hug?" She opened her arms wide.

Mitchie sat up in her bed, no longer being able to stand it. Her glare brought her mother's outstretched arms right down. Her smile faded and was replaced with a look of hurt.

"Why, in god's name, would I hug _you_?" The bitter contempt in her voice made her mother recoil a bit. "Just because I have your permission to talk to my own father, you expect a reward? If you hadn't heard me the other day, I was going to call him whether you liked it or not."

Her mother's eyes glazed over and she spoke in a quiet voice. "I just- just thought…"

"What?" Mitchie snapped, "That you can be the world's worst mother for a year or so, and then one day, you decide to do me a favor and let me talk to my own dad, so everything's okay again?"

Connie was speechless, her mouth hung open stupidly.

"Can you get out of my room, please?"

Connie closed her mouth, but ignored the request. Clearing her throat, she continued.

"There's something else too. Are you feeling okay? You've barely left your room for three days, and you look as pale as a sheet. I even turned away Shane because you looked so bad off."

_Oh, shit. She's caught on…kind of._

"I'm fine," Mitchie snapped, "I don't need you worrying about me anyways. It's not like you really care."

Her mother shook her head and looked Mitchie in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I know I've been horrible, but can we start over? You know I love you, and I'm really worried, you haven't even eaten that much for a couple days…"

Mitchie fumed, all of a sudden, all her unshed emotions came flooding to her mouth, and she started to yell.

"LOVE ME? You don't love me! And you're not worried! You're just selfish, and only love yourself! You can't even try to understand what wrong with me! Why I'm so unhappy!"

"You're unhappy? Sweetie, explain, please? I want to understand you!" Connie was pleading with her, tears threatening to fall. She needed to know why Mitchie was so upset; she was positive it wasn't only because of her.

Mitchie stood up and walked to her door, holding it open. "I will never tell you anything. Get out of my room, mother."

Connie sighed, the tears now leaving trails on her cheeks. Silently, she got up and walked out of Mitchie's room.

Mitchie slammed the door behind her mother and collapsed on her bed. She was crying, finally.

Every emotion she should have felt in these past three days was leaving marks on her pillow now. She cried over her mother, over her life. She cried over Shane.

When she was finally done crying, Mitchie got up and looked around her room. Gathering her brush, toothbrush, makeup, two outfits and a duffel bag, Mitchie decided she couldn't stay here anymore. And with that, Mitchie Torres, clad in her bunny slippers and pajamas, climbed out of her bedroom window, wishing she would never have to come back again.

Mitchie stumbled along the streets in her neighborhood that were usually inviting and homey. In the nighttime, they were inhospitable, with unknown dangers lurking at every corner. Mitchie hugged herself, wildly wishing that she had grabbed a jacket before running away.

Her duffel bag was slung over shoulder, and her still-damp hair caused her to shiver uncontrollably everytime a slight breeze blew. She had a faint idea where she was; the street Caity's house was on, but it was hard to tell which house was hers exactly. Squinting at the numbers, Mitchie counted them off.

_324, 322, 320, 318…312! _

Here, she was. Pathetically standing outside her best friend's house. Was this déjà vu, or what?

The porch light wasn't on, and from what she could tell, Mr. and Mrs. Gellar's car wasn't there. Hoping that Caitlyn _was_ there, she creeped through the grass, peering into the living room window. The lights in the room were dimmed, and the TV was definitely on. Looking harder, Mitchie was trying to spot Caitlyn, and then after a few seconds, she did. But she wished she hadn't.

Caitlyn was there, yes. But she was on top of her boyfriend, making out on the couch. Trying to erase the mental image, Mitchie began to sullenly walk away. It would be completely rude to interrupt, so she guessed she had better go home. There was nowhere else.

Then, suddenly a certain curly-haired boy's face came into her mind. Nate's house was just down the street. She could go there! Feeling suddenly lighter, Mitchie half ran, half walked to his house. She knew where it was because Caitlyn had once told her they were practically neighbors. Caitlyn's house was 312, Nate's was 306.

Grinning like an idiot at the light on at the porch, she jogged up his steps. Her finger mindlessly found the bell and she clicked it. A few agonizing seconds went by. She clicked it again, praying he would come. Once more. Nothing.

Then suddenly, she heard jogging footsteps and a familiar voice. She got very nervous.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Her breath caught in her throat. She had no idea why his mere voice had that effect on her.

"Can't a guy pee- Mitchie?"

The door had swung open to reveal a very concerned Nate. Whether he was concerned about Mitchie, or his pee, was hard to tell.

He was clad in an oversized t-shirt, and his boxers. Yes, his _boxers_. Mitchie realized right away and looked at her feet.

"Uh, hey Mitch…why are you looking at your…oh." He had noticed his attire, and blushed a deep red. "Come in, I'll just…change."

Mitchie nodded, still not looking at him and stepped inside. She closed the door behind her and found her way to the living room. She sat down, and waited for Nate. Taking in her surroundings. His house was very clean. Kind of fancy, even. She figured since both his parents were doctors (he had told her once), it was expected of him to have a nice house. But it looked kind of unlived in. Like brand new.

Nate came bounding down the stairs, now donning a pair of flannel pants. He smiled awkwardly at her.

"Sorry, about that. I'm usually here alone so I just walk around in my underwear... but do _you_ usually walk around outside in you pajamas?" He chuckled slightly.

"As a matter of fact, I don't, thank you. Do your parents work late a lot?"

He shrugged. "Try everyday."

Mitchie smiled sympathetically, and looked at her hands.

"So," Nate said, breaking the silence, "Not to sound rude at all, but how come you're here…this late at night?"

Mitchie sighed, this question was inevitable. "Well…uh, my mom and I had a fight…so I sort of ran away. I went to Cait's, but she was, erm…busy with something. The next place I came to was here. I just needed to get away for a bit…I hope you don't mind?" She glanced up at him hopefully.

Nate walked over and sat down beside her, putting arm around her shoulders. "Course not. Crash here as long as you want." She smiled and hugged him tightly. He was surprised, but didn't hesitate to return it.

Pulling away, he got up and offered her a drink. Saying no thanks, he disappeared into the kitchen before returning with a can of cola for himself and a bag of chips. Then, Nate turned on his super-huge TV to some movie, and they settled down comfortably snacking and sipping their cokes.

Mitchie reached in the bag mindlessly for some chips, forgetting her vow not to eat, and Nate's hand dove in too, unaware. Their hands brushed and they locked eyes for a few seconds before they looked away blushing. Nate cleared his throat, and Mitchie played with the ends of hair. Needless to say, neither was watching the movie anymore.

"Mitchie?" Nate's voice was small and almost a whisper.

"Hm?" She said, still avoiding his gaze. When he didn't continue, she looked up. His gaze poured into eyes, and she suddenly found it difficult to look away.

"How come you didn't go to Shane's first?"

Mitchie was confused, "What?"

"After Caitlyn's house. Shouldn't you have wanted your boyfriend with you?"

Mitchie was speechless. She had no idea what to say. "I-uh…Shane is…I…"

"Are you and Shane still together?"

Mitchie was caught off guard. "What? Yes. Yes we are."

"Oh." Nate looked…disappointed?

"Why?" She questioned, wanting to know why he had this sudden outburst.

"Well, it seems like you guys are having a lot of…you know, fights and stuff…"

_Was it really that obvious? Shit…_Mitchie was keeping a straight face, but on the inside she was panicking badly. What if Nate had seen her bruises? What if he knew? What if Caitlyn had told him?

"Uhm…so if we were broken up, what difference would there be between you and me?" Mitchie was seriously confused now.

Unexpectedly, Nate shot up from his seat, nearly knocking the coffee table over. Mitchie had shock painted plainly on her face.

"Damn it, Mitch! I thought you knew!"

"Kn-knew what, Nate? Please calm down!"

He looked at her, frustration evident on his handsome features.

"Mitchie…I'm in love with you."

As lame as this sounds, Mitchie really wasn't completely surprised. She knew he liked her for a while…and these past weeks, being with him…she felt like she was falling in love with him too. Falling too fast and hard. She just didn't want to admit it.

"No…Nate, no! You can't love me! I'm…I'm with Shane!"

"I know Mitchie," He said coming closer, "But I know inside, you don't love him. He's not good to you!"

She wanted to agree and run into his arms, but she had to stop herself. If Shane ever knew her feelings, she'd be a local murder case. So she lied.

"No! He's good to me! I love-" Standing up so quickly had triggered that lightheaded feeling from hunger again. She clutched onto the side of the couch.

Nate's face went from frustrated to concerned to scared in one quick second. "Mitchie…are you okay?"

Mitchie tried to answer but suddenly her legs gave out and the ground rushed up to meet her all too quickly. The last thing she wished before her world went black was that she had eaten some of those damn chips.

**DAMN she faints a lot! LMAO  
So Nate told her how he felt...but she didn't! :(  
REVIEW please :)**


	9. Tainted Love

**Before I begin, I just want to say...**

**I AM SO SORRY! **

**I know this took forever to update, and school is no excuse. But now it's winter break and if I get some good reviews, I will update really quick, I swear! I hope I haven't lost my readers! :( CHAPTER NINE IS A GO!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

Chapter Nine

Tainted Love

When Mitchie's eyes had opened again, after what felt like a few mere seconds, they were met with a sight that was very… white. They flew closed at the sudden change of lighting, and for a second she thought she was dead. Mitchie had heard about seeing 'the light' when you died, but she didn't think that falling over in Nate's living room had killed her. Reluctantly, she opened them a fraction again to take in her surroundings.

She was on a bed, that was for sure, and the room she was lying in was extremely sterile-looking, and for lack of a better word, white. The ceiling was white, the floor was white, the curtain around her bed was white, and, as she peered down, she was wearing white. Her messy hair that had fallen over her shoulders and her pale arms stood out brightly from the rest of her surroundings. _Obviously, _she thought, _I'm in a hospital._

Just as a renewed comfort enveloped Mitchie from knowing where she was, a sudden whirlwind of questions flooded her mind again and she began to panic._ How long have I been here? Where's Nate? Where's the doctor? _Throwing off the sheet that was laid on her like a blanket, Mitchie swung herself over the side of the bed, letting her feet touch the floor. The iciness of the tiles didn't even process in her mind, all she wanted to do was get out of there. A tugging on her left arm forbade her from leaving her bedside; a wire attached to a clip on her thumb was protruding out of a big machine, monitoring her heart rate. Carelessly, she ripped it off and threw her curtain aside. An empty bed was the only other thing in the room, and Mitchie tip-toed around it to the door.

Quietly, she pulled it open, checking to see if the coast was clear, but what, or who, she saw was definitely not what she expected at all. Her mother, Connie, was standing there, arms crossed, looking…worried? A man in a long white lab coat was talking to her; Mitchie assumed he was the doctor. He looked like he meant business, and Connie kept shaking her head, nervously biting on her lower lip. Mitchie wasn't sure what he was saying exactly, but it looked important, and for once, her mom looked like she cared. Slipping out of the room, Mitchie made her way closer, and when she was able to hear, stopped and hid behind a food cart. Straining to hear, Mitchie eavesdropped on their conversation…

"…The fall was not serious, caused by a lack of eating, but we have reason to believe that it was not the first time. While the nurse was giving her a physical, she noticed a bump on her head. She called me in, and it may be a mild concussion. Did Mitchie bump her head at all?"

Mitchie froze, it felt like her heart had stopped beating. They knew about her head.

The scene she had been trying to push from her mind for days, had quickly rebuilt once more and she saw a sinister Shane glaring at her…

'_Shane was face to face with her, when suddenly he pushed her down. Her head hit the wall and she dropped down on her back. Mitchie's head was spinning and it throbbed something awful. _

_Shane leaned down on top of her, and whispered in her ear._

"_Try not to scream." _

_The last thing Mitchie Torres heard before she blacked out, was the sound of Shane Gray unzipping his pants.'_

She shook her head violently, and tears were forming in her eyes, she could feel it. The day he had raped her, he had also gave her a possible concussion? No way…this was too unreal…

Mitchie struggled to forget the scene she had just replayed and tuned back into the conversation.

"…bumped her head? I don't think so, doctor…"

Connie's voice sounded strange, unlike her. It sounded a bit like she had been crying. Mitchie registered the idea, and then discarded it. She wouldn't cry about her, she didn't love her.

The doctor sighed audibly, and rubbed his temples. "Are you sure? Because a bump on her head is what we really want to believe…"

"What do you mean by that, Dr. John? 'What you want to believe'?"

There was a moment's pause and Mitchie felt like screaming at him to hurry up. She bit her tongue and waited.

"Well…" He sighed again, "The nurse also discovered some, uh, recovering…bruises. On her legs, and arms. Even one on her cheek…they look defensive…"

Her mother's face had gone white. "What?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Let me get right to it, Connie. Is Mitchie bullied at all?"

Mitchie's eyes had gone wide, and she knew her face was as white as this hospital's walls. They saw the bruises…they saw the bruises… It was like a silent mantra in her head. Her eyes flew back to her mom.

"N-no, doctor. It's summer break…there's no school…"

The doctor nodded his head, and then proceeded to talk, keeping his voice steady.

"Well then… how about your relationship with her? Do you find yourself losing your temper? Maybe lashing out physically?" He cleared his throat waiting for a response.

Connie stared at the ground for a few moments and then looked up at him. She was angered by his comment; it was obvious. It looked like she was going to yell, but when she spoke her voice was on the verge of sobbing.

"We haven't gotten along well at all since the divorce, but I would never, repeat _never_ hit my daughter." A single tear rolled down her cheek, but other than that she kept herself composed. Connie was staring at the doctor square in the eye, silently daring him to break the stare. He did.

Looking at his hands, then back up, he said,

"You don't seem like a woman that would lie to me about that. You seem to love her a lot."

Mitchie rolled her eyes.

"But that still brings me to the question of where those bruises came from! They don't seem self-inflicted, and I've run out of suspects…help me out… What about her dad?"

Connie's voice was steady again, and serious. "He lives far away… and she doesn't really see him…"

"Okay, what about a boyfriend?"

If her face wasn't already white, Mitchie knew that it was whiter than a ghost now. Her heart started racing double time within that second, and if she was still hooked to that machine she was positive it would be going crazy. Grasping onto the cart, she steadied herself, and closed her eyes, preparing to hear the worst.

"Shane? Hm…she doesn't really talk about him like she used to…I don't even know if they are still together…"

"Do you think we could call him here? Maybe he knows something we don't?"

Connie nodded, "Yes, I'll go get him. But I think I'm going to go home myself, I need to sleep. Thank you, doctor."

The doctor reached out his hand and shook Connie's outstretched one. "Yes, Connie. Just send him to Mitchie's room when he comes. I have a patient for the next hour or so, but she'll be glad for the company, I think." He said goodbye, and Mitchie watched them both leave.

The conversation she had just overheard, suddenly meant nothing to her, it didn't register in the least. All that mattered now was that Shane was coming. Shane, Mitchie's rapist and abuser, was coming to see her, and she would be with him. Alone.

As soon as the doctor and her mother were clear out of sight, Mitchie got up and dashed back to her room, startling a nurse who was approaching the food cart. Uncaring, she continued to run back the way she came from. Turning a corner, she sprinted back into her room, slamming the door behind her. Mitchie began to pace the floor.

How can she be alone with Shane? He'll for sure hit her again…it's a free shot. Closing her eyes, she made her way back to her bed, nearly sitting on a person, who, by the looks of it, was waiting for her. She turned around.

Nate Richards smiled at Mitchie. He looked tired, she noticed. Still clad in his pajamas, and dark bags hanging under his eyes, he yawned and got up from her bed. Mitchie smiled, and automatically crushed him in a hug as soon as he was on his feet.

He was startled at the bone-crushing contact, but hugged her back too, resting his chin on the top of his head. They stayed like that for a few minutes, swaying in the same spot to a silent tune. Mitchie's eyes were closed; she was listening to his breathing. Finally, Nate pulled her off of him and looked at her with that serious look of his.

"How are you, Mitch? Really?"

She forced a smile. "I'm okay…"

He didn't look convinced. "Mitchie…I already talked to the doctor. He said you passed out because of a lack of eating. Are you on some crazy diet? You know…those never end up well…sure, you lose weight but anorexia isn't fun…"

Mitchie smiled. Nate was rambling; it was kind of cute.

He looked up. "Why are you smiling? I don't find anything funny. I've been worried sick…I haven't slept at all…"

"I'm sorry, Nate." Mitchie sighed and sat down on the bed next to him. "Really, I am. It's just, you were rambling and it was kind of funny." She looked at him with a reproachful look. Nate continued to stare at her seriously, and then broke out into a grin.

"It's cool, Mitch. So where did you go?"

Deciding not to tell him about her eavesdropping, Mitchie quickly covered with a lie about using the bathroom.

He nodded his head, and they talked for a while. Mitchie was feeling a lot better about things, maybe because she had forgotten that Shane was coming, or maybe because she thought Nate had forgotten about their conversation the night before…

"_Damn it, Mitch! I thought you knew!"_

"_Kn-knew what, Nate? Please calm down!"_

_He looked at her, frustration evident on his handsome features._

"_Mitchie…I'm in love with you."_

_As lame as this sounds, Mitchie really wasn't completely surprised. She knew he liked her for a while…and these past weeks, being with him…she felt like she was falling in love with him too. Falling too fast and hard. She just didn't want to admit it. _

"_No…Nate, no! You can't love me! I'm…I'm with Shane!"_

"_I know Mitchie," He said coming closer, "But I know inside, you don't love him. He's not good to you!"_

"Mitchie? Are you okay?"

Mitchie shook her head; Nate was looking at her confused. "Yeah…I just zoned out, sorry."

She looked away to play it off, but he continued to study her. A few awkward moments later, he spoke.

"You were thinking about I said last night weren't you?" He was whispering. Mitchie wasn't sure why, they were alone in the room. Maybe he was…embarrassed?

Mitchie didn't answer, she merely stared at the ground. She didn't want to tell him yes, for fear that her true feelings for him would come out. She didn't want to tell him she loved him too. Things were complicated enough.

When she didn't answer, Nate cleared his throat.

"You know…nothing has changed. I still feel that way… loving you and all. But, I'm just going to wait for you to come to me. I'm not going to push you. It's obvious things between you and Shane aren't great…but I'll let you sort that out yourselves. When you're ready, I'll still be here."

Mitchie was speechless by the time he finished talking. Nate was so understanding and he'd be the perfect guy…she wished he could just be hers now. She looked up at him through watery eyes.

"Thank you, Nate."

He smiled painfully, she could tell it took him a lot to say that, seeing as how much he liked her and she liked him. They stared at each other.

Before she knew what she was doing, Mitchie was leaning in, and Nate was doing the same. His hand had come behind her head, pulling her closer and closer. He could see every tear on her eyelashes, and she could see deep into his chocolate brown eyes. She went in a little closer, and their lips touched. Mitchie kissed him, and Nate was kissing her back.

It was sweet, not passionate. Her arms were linked around his neck, and he kept her close with his hands on her back. They kissed longer, hungrier now for each other. It lingered on longer and longer, although both knew this was wrong. He pulled back. Nate looked at Mitchie, and studied her as if it was the first time. He licked his lips nervously.

"Mitchie…this goes against everything I just said. This is wrong."

Mitchie looked down ashamed. She opened her mouth to answer, but another voice beat her to it.

"You're right, Nathaniel. It is very wrong. I think I should show you and this slut how wrong it really is."

Mitchie's head shot up, her wide eyes traveling to the door of the room. There stood Shane Gray, angrier than ever.

* * *

**He always ruins the day...  
PLEASE REVIEW!**


	10. Consequences

**CHAPTER 10 IS HERE! :) I think this is my longest chapter yet, so please stick with me through all of it! It's really dramatic...and violent, so it defintely won't be boring! REVIEW PLEASE!!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

Chapter 10

Consequences

The only sounds in the cold hospital room were those of the clock, ticking away, seemingly counting seconds off Mitchie's life, and the shallow breathing of the three occupants. Everything seemed frozen in time, like the raindrops on the leaves of the towering oak outside. Stationary; they were afraid. Nate and Mitchie didn't dare move, or make a tiny sound; not after those venom laced words left the mouth of the man standing menacingly at the door.

Shane glared at the boy and girl sitting on the bed. His face was contorted in rage, and they were still holding onto each other, dazed from their sudden embrace. Mitchie gulped, and continued to watch her boyfriend, Shane, who looked as though he was about to attack at any given moment. The bruises on her legs seemed to tingle as she waited for him to make the first move. She couldn't look at Nate.

He moved. Nate slowly brought his arms down from Mitchie's torso, and moved away from her on the bed. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it, as if he was silently groping around for words in his head. Mitchie watched him discreetly from the corner of her eye, but never completely looking away from a deathly silent Shane.

"Sh-Shane…I-"

"Shut up."

Nate looked taken aback, shocked. The words had slipped so easily out of Shane's mouth, it was like a reflex. Shane was staring at Mitchie. Not Nate. It was like he didn't care what Nate had to say, he only wanted to see the fear in _her_ eyes. He was staring at her, intensely; it was like he was seeing straight into her head, reading the frantic thoughts that were swimming around like yesterday's newspaper. Nate had been shocked into silence once more, and the heat of Shane's gaze on Mitchie enveloped the room.

A muscle in Shane's jaw twitched and his face wore a dangerous look. He kept staring at her; through her, practically, and a rising panic in Mitchie seemed to get only worse. And then he moved away from the door. In two quick strides he had crossed the room and stood closely to the bed. Shane was in front on Mitchie now, and the hammering of her heart against her ribcage was probably frantic and loud enough for him and Nate to hear. The dark haired boy leaned down to gain eye level with Mitchie; he looked as if he never seen such scum in his life.

"Care to tell me what that was all about, Mitch?" Shane's voice was low, dripping with fake sweetness, but Mitchie could hear the true dangerousness underneath it. Nate shifted in his seat beside her, watching his best friend talk to his girlfriend in such an awful way. Mitchie took no notice of it, she didn't even flinch. Her goal was to stay focused on Shane so she could see his every movement. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, and not at all in a loving way. He raised his eyebrows.

"Well? I'm waiting." Shakily, she opened her mouth to respond. Mitchie wanted to say _anything _just so he wouldn't get angry with her for staring at him like a deer in headlights. Groping her mind for anything, any word, she stupidly blurted out.

"Shane, please-"

His hand was too fast for her. The impact of it against her face was so fast and hard, she wasn't even sure what had happened. And then the burning on her cheek ignited and her hand flew to the side of her face, clutching her cheek praying for the tears pricking her eyes to go away. Nate had stood up, and he was glaring at Shane, obviously wanting to tell him off, but, again, shocked into silence. Shane rounded on him, his face changing from enraged to amused. A mirthless laugh escaped his lips; he was quite clearly enjoying the prospect of Nate, who was much smaller than him, wanting to take him on. This was all a big joke to Shane Gray.

Mitchie attempted to steal a glance at Nate, hoping to catch his eye and tell him to back off. But he was locked in a cold glare between the once brother-like friends. Shane broke the glare first and turned back to Mitchie, she immediately dropped her hand and locked gazes with him again. He spoke to her in an all too familiar cold hiss.

"I've given you too many chances. Too many chances wasted on such a useless person. I thought maybe beating some sense into you literally would help get it through your stupid head. But no, your even too stupid for that," Shane was speaking just above a whisper but the mean words he was uttering were capturing the close attention of both the other teenagers. "You're an idiot. A useless idiot. And now, you're a slut too. I don't even know why I bothered to put up with you, you bitch. No guy would ever want you."

"I would and I do." Nate's strong voice speaking so confidently after Shane's evil whispers caught him so off guard, that when he turned around to confront Nate, he wasn't even near ready for the punch that caught him square in the nose.

Mitchie gasped as Shane staggered backwards grasping his nose with his hand. Nate lowered his fist, obviously completely shocked with how much power and strength he had actually hit Shane with. Not only had he literally staggered back from the impact, Shane's hand was dripping and covered with a dark red liquid; blood. The scene stayed like that for a few moments. Nate and Mitchie both near the bed staring at Shane, and Shane, himself, leaning against the wall and whose shirt was soaked with blood now as well.

Wiping his nose of the back of his sleeve, Shane straightened himself up again and glared at Nate, murder screaming in his eyes. "I'll teach you to ever touch me again, you faggot!"

Less than a second after he had said those words, Shane had lunged towards Nate, fist held high. Blood was flowing freely from his nose as he punched Nate square in the jaw. Nate fell back tripping over a cord to one of the machines in the room and landing flat on his back. Shane was on him like a lion on a deer, slugging him continuously hard in the face.

Mitchie didn't know what to do, it seemed like her voice wasn't working at all. Nate had spoken out for her, why couldn't she do the same? Why couldn't she call for help from someone right outside the door? _Why _couldn't she ever tell anyone when she was in danger? And now it was Nate, he really hadn't done anything wrong, just stood up for Mitchie. Shane was right; she was useless.

Gathering every once of energy and courage in herself, Mitchie launched herself at Shane's back. She hit him and punched him, all the while begging for him to stop hitting Nate. Everytime her comparably small fist pounded even harder onto Shane, he seemed to feel it less and ignored her desperate pleas. Ruthlessly, Shane continued to pound Nate, who had stopped fighting back and seemed to struggle with keeping his eyes open. Tears sprung to Mitchie's eyes as she tried again to pull Shane off Nate.

"Shane, stop! Stop it! You're hurting him!"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

Shane had stopped punching Nate, who was now unmoving, and Mitchie had clambered away from Shane as soon as his fist had dropped away from the younger boy. His back was still turned to her, but the fury in his voice had rendered them both still. Shane and Mitchie were both breathing hard, their chests rapidly moving as they took sharp intakes of the air. Slowly, his head turned to look at her.

Mitchie's gasped at Nate's image, for now she could see him a lot clearer since Shane's head was out of the way. His eyes were closed, and it looked like he was having a fair amount of trouble breathing. His nose, like Shane's, was freely flowing blood like a faucet, and the eye she was able to see was bruising furiously. Carelessly, she threw herself towards Nate, forgetting that Shane was situated between them. She flew across the room, her arms open wide hoping to envelop the frail body of the younger boy in them, but she was caught by a pair of arms that definitely were not Nate's.

Shane had put a death grip over her and he was pushing her down to the cold floor. She struggled and kicked trying to throw him off of her, but to no avail. Once he had her down, Shane climbed atop of her, keeping her flailing body still under his weight. His strong hands pinned her arms above her head, and Mitchie could feel his hot breath tickling her face. He smirked.

"What a compromising position, this is, Mitch."

Mitchie mustered up the dirtiest look she could give him. It seemed that was all she could do since her voice seemed lost somewhere. Shane's smirk turned into a broad grin.

"What? Has a cat got your tongue?"

The tears were seeping out the corners of her eyes unreservedly and she made no attempt to cover them up. Everytime the awful boy on top of her, pushing her down, would hit her, or do something unbelievably heinous to her, she would not let herself cry in front of him. It showed way too much weakness and vulnerability. Shane already took so much advantage of her, she couldn't show him that much satisfaction. Crying in front of him was like opening the doors to all your feelings and letting him come inside and peruse them as she wished. But it didn't matter anymore. It was over. Shane had won for the last time.

He snickered at her and each note of his laughter rang in her mind sharply. His voice used to sound like music to her, as free and amazing as the songs he wrote privately, that he would only share with Mitchie. But now, it was bitter and cold like the season of winter; unforgiving and ruthless. The hot tears seemed only to come faster now.

She opened her eyes to meet Shane's staring at her, and although tears were falling she didn't look away. The smirk was back on his once seemingly handsome face and he was studying her just as she was studying him. Mitchie opened her mouth and mustered up a few quiet words.

"_Get off me, Shane."_

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the fact that Mitchie was suffocating under him and was crying. Shane bit back a laugh.

"What was that? Sorry, I couldn't hear you."

Willing the tears to stop, she took a breath. Shane wasn't light at all. He was quite heavy actually, and with all his weight pressing against her and her chest, Mitchie's breathing was restricted. She knew that amused Shane. Anything to hurt her, or make her experience pain could make him laugh. She squeezed her eyes shut, and opened her mouth again.

"Get off of me. Please."

Mitchie opened an eye to look at him and saw that he was still watching her like his favorite TV show. A TV show he never seemed to get tired of, now matter how repetitive or sick it was.

"Why should I?" The amusement was all too evident in his voice, along with the pure menace it always held when talking to her. Mitchie was getting tired of this game. Once more, she gathered a constricted breath.

"I…can't breathe..."

"Oh, you can't breathe, can you?"

Surprisingly, Mitchie felt Shane's weight shift, and he lifted himself off of her. Relieved of the weight that had bore upon her a few seconds prior, Mitchie shot up and grasped onto the nearest wall collecting her breath. She clutched it like a lifeline, inhaling and exhaling rapidly. Her eyes had squeezed closed and she placed her hands on her knees once she had been reimbursed of the air she needed. Mitchie didn't even hear Shane walk to her.

His hands enclosed around her shoulders and he pressed her roughly against the wall. Shocked, Mitchie wasn't even sure what had happened, but then she saw Shane's enraged face at close proximity in front of hers.

"You want to know what not being able to breathe really feels like? Do you want to feel what it's like to be dead, huh? Like your precious Nate over there?"

Mitchie's frightened eyes sped over to the limp and unnaturally still body of Nate laying only feet away. From where she was, she wasn't even sure she could see his chest heaving for breath like hers had done only moments before. She tried to rid of Shane's hands by squirming to get to him, but he kept Mitchie still against the wall. Then, Shane's hands released her and her feet touched the ground once more, but all too quickly they were replaced on either side of her neck. And they were squeezing, hard.

This sensation of not being able to open to your mouth and heave in a gulp of air when you so desperately needed it, was so much more different than the one she had experienced before with the body of Shane pressing against her. This time it was unbearable, and she truly thought she was going to die.

Dying. Never all those times that she wished she were dead, had she thought about the actual concept of it. No, it was always 'just kill me', or 'I want to die'. Now that she knew it was really happening, the more she wanted to live. If she died, she could never see Caitlyn again; her smiling face and her bouncy curls so full of life. If she died, she could never get the chance to talk to her dad again, and see him or touch him. If she died, in this hospital room, no one would ever know about anything she went through with Shane. No one would ever know how he abused her and hurt her. Caitlyn wouldn't tell, she'd be scared, and frankly, Mitchie didn't blame her.

Shane could lie, make it seem like she had killed Nate and then committed suicide. He was an excellent liar, everybody would believe him and then pity him. No one would ever know how exactly she died and what thoughts were going through her head. Shane would come out the winner, in this terrible game he had played with her life.

Then, as the colors of suffocation danced behind her eyelids, they came. Like a montage of videos, every terrible and wonderful experience she had ever shared with the boy suffocating her. It was like she was watching a movie, from third person, and it was all about her. The scenes floated in and out of her head…

A couple standing in a wooded area, embracing…

"_Shane?"_

"_Yeah, Mitch?"_

"_Why are we standing in the rain?"_

"_I've always wanted to kiss a girl in the rain…you know, like in Spiderman?"_

Mitchie, standing at the front door of her house, with Shane, obviously really pissed...

"_Um, hi…"_

"_Shut the hell up Mitchie. Don't talk."_

_Mitchie looked at her shoes. _

"_You're a liar Mitchie, a fucking liar. I can't believe you."_

A brunette crawling into bed and pulling the covers over her head, singing…

"_And why can't I_

_get through the night,_

_without another fight,_

_I'm tired of the hurting."_

Mitchie had climbed onto her bed, a scrapbook open in her lap…

_Mitch, baby, happy sweet 16!  
Have an amazing time, and live it up!_

_I hope you LOVE my present and the surprise party tonight!  
OOPS, did I just let that slip?_

_Don't tell Caitlyn, she'll murder me._

_Love always and forever, _

_Shanie-wanie_

_It was not exactly a romantic love letter, but still. It was a remnant of the old Shane Grey and how much he cared for Mitchie. She sighed thinking about the 'good old days'._

And then the scene reformed, and it was one she had seen all too many times in her nightmares…

"_I think it's time you learn a lesson on how I operate Mitchie."_

_Shane was face to face with her, when suddenly he pushed her down. Her head hit the wall and she dropped down on her back. Mitchie's head was spinning and it throbbed something awful. _

_Shane leaned down on top of her, and whispered in her ear._

"_Try not to scream." _

And so, for the last time, it changed, and she was watching the current scene from where the bed was. Shane had his hands pulled tight around her neck, and her face was turning blue…she was dying.

Then, suddenly, something clicked, and Mitchie was back in her body, and her eyes were open and she couldn't breathe. She knew what she had saw was a sign to keep holding on, to fight back, so that she could save herself and Nate, if it wasn't too late. Then, possessing the strength within her, which she never knew she had, Mitchie had released her leg and kicked Shane in the groin.

He was doubled over in a second, grunting in pain. Taking her chance, Mitchie did her best to try and stay standing and breathing, all the while making her way to Nate. Her throat seemed like it was closed and she was coughing and wheezing as she slowly knelt down beside the boy she loved, listening to see if he was breathing. Her own pain and inability to breathe consistently was really rendering her efforts useless for it was impossible to breathe and examine Nate at the same time. Looking up, she noticed Shane straightening up, and turning around. With one look at his crazy, infuriated expression, she did the only thing she could think of.

"HELP! HE'S KILLED HIM! HELP ME!"

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	11. I Promise

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Chapter 11

I Promise

"Sweetie, I need you to talk to me. How else are we supposed to help you?"

Mitchie glared at the woman sitting in front of her. The old lady's face was deeply wrinkled with the worries of so many others embedded in their creases, and her eyes shown with a kind empathy. The psychiatrist leaned over and gently rested her hand on Mitchie's knee. Instantly, she recoiled away from it as if the forthcoming hand had burned her.

"Michelle, please. All I want is to help you. Shane isn't here, he can't hear you."

Mitchie's eyes closed shut at his name; she thought maybe if they were closed she wouldn't be able to relive her horrible memories of him. Regardless of the action, Mitchie could feel his hands snake around her neck again even though he was not there, and she felt suffocated. The room's walls were enclosing around her now, moving in. An image of his terrifying face advancing towards her caused her to let a frightful scream fall from her lips.

Knees brought up to her chest, Mitchie began to rock on the chair in rhythm to her sobs. She was bawling, the tears falling thick and fast and involuntarily. She didn't want to be weak now, when she had to be strong for herself and Nate. She didn't want to let her emotions get the best of her now, when she needed to be level headed and rationable. And most of all, she didn't want to remember what she had been through, when she was trying so hard to forget.

A comforting arm fell upon her shoulders, and seemingly reassuring words were whispered into her ear, but she was deaf to them. Nothing mattered right now except that Nate was in the hospital, the scene of the crime, or even dead, and Shane was…well, she didn't know where he was and that just scared her even more. It was possible she was more scared now than she had been when Shane had seen the two of them kissing. It was possible; but not definite.

"Okay honey, I'm going to give you a few minutes to collect yourself."

Although Mitchie had been in the room with her for more than an hour, she had no idea what the lady's name even was. So the nameless woman smiled warmly at her, and then briskly left the room with her clipboard tucked under her arm. The page was blank, obviously, seeing as Mitchie had done nothing but plead to see Nate as soon as she had been ushered into the room.

As soon as she was sure the psychiatrist was gone, Mitchie bolted to the door, prying it open in record time. She flew into the hall, checking to see if the woman was coming back, or her mom or a police officer were patrolling the area. That's right, they had to call the _police _to get Shane under control. Assuring herself that none were there, Mitchie began to walk quickly down the hall in search of Nate.

It was completely fruitless, of course, seeing as he was taken away by nurses right after she had screamed for help, and not one person had uttered a word about him since. Continuing to walk quickly down the hall, and ignoring the looks she kept receiving given that she was still crying, Mitchie made a silent prayer in her head, begging god for him to be alive. When she had bent over to check his vital signs, her own inability to breathe had distracted her from the job, and seeing as Shane had knocked him around much too roughly, she had no idea how he was doing, or if he was even 'doing' at all.

Maybe that's why each person she had interrogated for answers hadn't told her anything about him. Maybe Nate Richards was dead. Just the thought was unbearable.

He had come back into her life only a short while ago, and from the moment she had so mercilessly knocked him down that day in Shane's apartment building, he had made everything better. Nate had taught her how love was supposed to be between a boy and a girl, and he had been there for her emotionally and physically. He had read her like an open book, and taped up the pages that had been ripped apart in rage.

Nate's death would mean that none of the tender words he had reassured he with, or the simple hugs that had held so much meaning would ever amount to anything. If he were gone from her life, ripped away like the pages in her book had once been, it would mean that her guardian angel, her _savior_, couldn't protect her any more. She'd be broken. Again.

If she could see him again, she'd kiss him. Kiss him like there was no tomorrow. And then she'd say the words he was yearning to hear.

'_I love you too.'_

Stumbling down the twisting hospital halls, Mitchie was now sobbing even harder. She fell to her knees, causing many people to gasp and gawk, but she didn't care if she was making a scene. She wanted, no, _needed _Nate right now. Just to see his chest rise up and gently fall down again, breathing, would be enough to last her a lifetime.

A nurse approached, falling to her knees beside Mitchie. Her soft hands removed Mitchie's own down from her face and she helped the distressed girl to her feet. Wiping away Mitchie's tears with her own thumbs, the nurse smiled sympathetically down at her.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Her voice was light and buttery, laced with concern. "Who are you looking for?"

Mitchie was able to stutter two words between her sobs.

"N-Nate…Richards..."

She nodded her head. "Okay, we'll go find him. Come on, honey."

The nurse took Mitchie under her arm, and strongly guided her from the prying eyes of the scene. It was all a blur to Mitchie, literally, seeing as she was tripping over her own feet and was more than once about to fall flat on her face if it wasn't for the woman grasping her tightly by her side. Her eyes were clouded from the salty tears cascading down her cheeks, and she was letting this unknown, but kind, nurse guide her to wherever. Honestly though, going wherever was just fine Mitchie compared to the small room she had just been held captive in.

They walked in sync, turning at corners and dodging oncoming stretchers and people, until they finally stopped at an information desk. The nurse relinquished her grip on Mitchie and smiled at her.

"Hold on one sec, 'kay? I'll find out where Nate Richards is."

Mitchie nodded her head, and her eyes followed the nurse as she scurried away to speak the woman sitting at the desk.

Leaning onto the wall, Mitchie tried to get a grip on her tears. She hastily wiped at her eyes, and vowed to herself that she would be strong and control her emotions. For Nate. If she was going to see him, she wouldn't allow herself to be a mess.

Unless, of course, the woman came back and told her that Nate was dead. Then, she said to herself, she could bawl all she wanted.

Mitchie analyzed the conversation the nurse and the lady at the desk were sharing. She couldn't hear them, but so far it didn't look as though they were discussing a dead boy and how to break the news to an already fairly distraught teenage girl. Hope bubbled inside of her like a warm drink sliding down her throat on a frosty winter day. But she couldn't get too eager yet, what if he _was _dead?

The warm feeling extinguished, to be replaced with a bitter one, like a bad taste in her mouth.

The nurse was walking back now; it was hard to read her body language, she was so indefinite. Maybe this was an innocent way of killing Mitchie, who was so keenly waiting on the news?

She smiled again at Mitchie when she approached, and said,

"He's this way, come on."

The sensation you get when you're at the top of a roller coaster and excitement and anticipation are building up like a wave, is one of pure ecstasy. Then, it's demolished, and the brakes are surrendered and your zooming at top speed, plummeting down the track, adrenaline controlling any rational sense you may have once had.

That is precisely how Mitchie Torres felt at that exact moment. Excitement; knowing he was alive. Anticipation; waiting to see him as they twisted once more through the labyrinth of halls.

The nurse had no need to hold onto Mitchie this time, the young girl was bouncing with each step, feeling lighter than air.

And then the seemingly long walk was over, and the two women were standing outside a closed door, the numbers '271' printed cleanly on its surface. Mitchie's smile was uncontainable, and the nurse patted her shoulder.

"Your boyfriend is probably sleeping, but go right in."

It was possible her already gigantic smile grew at that word. _Boyfriend. _When this was all over, she hoped he could be.

Nodding her head and quietly thanking the kind woman, Mitchie reached for the door handle. It felt cold in her warm palm, and she closed her eyes, before taking a deep breath, and throwing the door aside.

The room was dark; the blinds were pulled over the only window, and a bed and bedside table with a lit lamp resting upon it were really the only things in the room. The usual machines were stationary in their regular places, but none seemed to be attached to the boy lying on the bed. Mitchie studied him.

He was sleeping, for sure, but he didn't look peaceful as most do when resting. Nate's brows were knitted together as if in concentration, and his face was an assortment of colours. His cheek was bruised as well as his eye, and he had probably bled a little too, but the nurse seemed to have taken care of cleaning that up. Mitchie watched him, his chest heaving for breath, something she had longed to see him do only a short while ago. But now, she wished she could see him clean, unbruised. Away from this hospital, where he had put himself on the line for her. Tears had sprung to her eyes again.

Mitchie quietly shut the door behind her, and walked instinctively over to the bed, her footsteps and his breathing the only sounds in the room. She pulled a chair that was sitting off to the side, to the edge of his bed, and then sat herself down upon it. Mitchie grasped his exposed hand in both of her own, and began to rub circles on the back of it with her thumb. His skin was warm.

"Hey Nate. Hey sweetie."

Her own voice sounded foreign to her, hoarse and low. It was thick with emotion. After all, she had just been sobbing uncontrollably. He didn't stir, and for that she was thankful, it meant she could talk to him, and not feel embarrassed or scared about what she was about to divulge to him. Her thumb continued to rub small circles on his hand and she took a deep breath.

"Well, Nate, I've got some stuff I want to say to you, and you can't interrupt until I'm done, okay?"

Nate continued to be unaware of her speaking to him.

"Good." Mitchie nodded, reassuring herself to go on.

"The very first thing I would like to say to you, Mr. Richards, is that I am sorry. Truly, deeply sorry with all of my heart. I am sorry you got hurt, and that Shane is a jerk. You never had anything to with this, and it's completely unfair that you're the one laying here in this hospital when Shane deserves it the most. I really hate him for doing this to you, and other reasons, of course, but mostly because of this. You stuck up for me, and he got mad at you, but you stood your ground for me, and I want to say thanks. So thank you Nate. Thank you so much."

She took another breath, and squeezed his hand.

"I am also really sorry that I never told you. Told you that Shane was hitting me, and that I really needed help, although I refused to admit it myself. You had every right, and more, to know that, and you proved it to me countless times. I'm so sorry, Nate. I know that these stupid words won't help you out of this hospital bed, or reverse what you just went through for such an idiot like me, but please just take my apology, okay? It'll make me feel like less of a jerk."

"You know that you really scared me? I was terrified that you were dead. When you had passed out, I leaned over to see if you were okay and it didn't look like you were breathing. I could have killed myself. If you had died for me, I don't know how I could have lived with that burden. And then I called for help, and they took you away from me, and stuck me in this room with some lady who was bugging me to tell her everything. And I wanted to, but I couldn't, because I just kept begging to see you. But no one told me anything. I thought you were really gone. I was _so _scared."

The tears were falling thick onto her lap, and she brought Nate's hand to her lips, giving it soft, light kisses. Mitchie was silent for a few minutes, and she sat there, with Nate's hand pressed to her lips crying silently.

She lowered it and stared at his face.

"I'm sorry Shane did that to your handsome face. God, he's such a bastard."

Mitchie smiled in spite of herself.

"It's so quiet in here. It's kind of creepy."

She glanced around the room, and then looked back at Nate, as if he was listening to this awkward one-sided conversation. Mitchie smiled sadly down at him, and reached out to brush back a few of his brown curls that had fallen in front of his face. Her hand traveled down to his cheek, and she caressed the purplish bruise.

"I think that I'll leave now, so you can sleep. I'll probably be back in a while."

Withdrawing her hand, and Mitchie turned to leave, when she suddenly remembered something she had forgotten to say.

She turned back around and kissed Nate on the cheek.

"You remember that day you told me you loved me? And I was too much of a coward to say it back, even though we both knew I did? Well, Nate…" Mitchie took a deep breath. "I love you too. Really, I do. Goodnight."

And so she twisted back around again, and began to make her way back to door when a quiet, familiar voice rung out into the silence.

"It's about time, Mitch."

Frozen in her spot, a smile erupted on her face from hearing that loving voice again. Mitchie's words were quiet but confident as she answered him, her back still turned.

"Nate, you were listening to me the whole time? You heard everything?"

He chuckled, "Yes, every word, Mitchie. Believe me, it was hard to pretend to stay asleep while you were crying like that. But I had to, you know, so you could say everything you wanted to say."

Mitchie faced him. His eyes were tired and his face still bruised, but he was glowing as he remembered that she had just confessed she loved him. You could never have known he had been beaten to a pulp a mere hour ago. Nate scooted over in his bed and patted the space next to him, silently inviting her to join him. She obliged happily.

Settling in beside the boy she loved, Mitchie entangled herself in his arms, and placed her head at his chest, monitoring his heartbeat. She beamed as she listened to the rhythmic beating; it was like her heart had adjusted to the same beat and they were one. She snuggled in close to him.

"Nate?" She had closed her eyes, and was enjoying his warmth.

"Hm?"

"I'm scared. And worried."

He chuckled again, and Mitchie felt the vibrations of his laughter tickle her ear as she lay her head against him.

"Don't be Mitchie. It'll be okay…we'll be okay."

She lifted her head and looked at him square in the eye, reading him.

"Do you promise me that Nathaniel Richards?"

He smirked.

"I do. I promise you that Mitchie Torres."

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	12. No Tears, No Fears

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Chapter 12

No Tears, No Fears

"I can't do this, I really can't."

"Yes you can, Mitchie. Be strong. Come out, please."

Mitchie Torres gazed intensely into the toilet bowl, searching for a glimmer of courage. All that seemed to be there was still water, reflecting her anxious face on to the spotless porcelain of the bowl. She sighed, moving herself away from the toilet, and repositioning her body against the cool side of the bathtub. She pulled her knees close, hugging them, whilst wishing for the day to just end.

Today was the day she had been dreading indefinitely since the last month and a half, when the exact date for the 'event' had been set. This was the day, that had seemed too far, yet had come too quickly. Today was the day she thought she could gain closure and peace of mind, not nausea.

Today, Mitchie, her family, Caitlyn and Nate would be going to court, for the case of Shane Gray.

That wretched name, that had dared not crawl into her thoughts in so long, inhabited every notion and image in her brain like a parasite today. She couldn't shake it off, for she had tried, because today was all about him.

And her. But mostly him, and his fate.

In all sense, Shane should be the one nauseated and terrified of the day's events, not Mitchie. Shane should really be the one, curled up in the bathroom, scared to death of seeing his ex. And maybe he was, but then why was Mitchie too?

Mitchie breathed in deeply, attempting to steady her erratic heartbeat. She checked her watch; one hour left. They really should be leaving now so that they aren't late, but seeing as she had locked herself in the bathroom for the last hour and a half, things were obviously getting held up. A light tapping at the bathroom ensued.

"Mitchie, please come out. I know you can do this, you've already been through so much. After this, it's all over and he will never be a part of your life again. I promise."

Mitchie's head fell back onto the rim of the tub. That promise was empty as the 'I Love You's' Shane had once whispered into her ear. If today, justice was not served, and Shane wasn't charged, he could easily be a part of her life again, even if she didn't want him to be. Mitchie knew Shane could push and force his way in; he was so damn good at getting what he wanted when he tried. The one thing he would want was for her to lose and for him to win, even after she had put up such a good fight. To see Mitchie crushed and disappointed; what a sight that would be for him. He'd laugh, she knew he would.

Mitchie could hear it now; hollow and unforgiving. Scrutinizing every one of her faults. She visibly shuddered; her arms enclosed tighter around her body.

To witness the face she had once fallen in love with, that she had seen hovering above her angrily, could be the most painful thing she'd ever encountered in her life. Even more painful than each one of the bruises he had ever given her. The intensity of the truth and the events of what had ever happened between them would upon both their backs like an unrequited burden that was unbearable to carry. The weight dragged them both down, so they were unable to walk away unscathed from this. Mitchie had the marks to prove it.

Another knock.

"Mitchie…come on. We have less than an hour to get to the courthouse. I know you are scared; I would be too, but you need to do this. We all need to do this. Just remember we love you."

And the footsteps retreated.

She sighed; it was now or never. Mitchie pulled herself up, steadying her balance against the sink and reached out to unlock the door. The lock clicked and she nervously turned the knob, preparing herself to leave this safe haven.

The hallway was empty, everyone was downstairs and she could hear their anxious small talk as they waited for her to join them. Mitchie quickly glanced in the mirror and then slowly climbed down the stairs. As soon as she was in sight, the others stopped talking immediately and observed her. It was like they were expecting her to have a nervous breakdown at any given second. They studied her like a fragile doll teetering on the edge of the shelf, just waiting for the right moment to fall and break into pieces. Mitchie shifted uncomfortably; she didn't like that.

"Er, let's go then, I guess…"

Her attempt to break the awkward silence was received, and the people standing in her foyer slowly began to shuffle out the front door. Mitchie pulled on her shoes and followed them outside to the car.

A small smile graced her features as she watched them clamber into the car. They were all here for her. They all came, they wanted the best for her and wanted to help her get through this. She squinted in the blinding sun's rays as she watched the people she loved most in the world settle in. Her eyes drifted to and settled on the boy pulling open the back door of the car; Nate. He had literally taken too many blows for her and nowadays, he was her everything. Always there when she needed him and never more than a phone call away. He was teaching her how to love again. And he was here for her today, like he always was and always promised to be. She couldn't help but smile.

And then there was Caitlyn. A best friend above all best friends. She was her confidante, and she was there to talk to when Mitchie felt like no one else was. And she was here for her now, just like Nate, and always would be.

And, of course, her mom. Sure, there had been the fights and mean words spat at each other, but when it came down to it, she was her mom. No one could replace her and really, they loved each other. Mitchie felt a familiar comfort arise in her, meaning that her mom would always be there for her.

Lastly, as though a dream had brought him here, was her father. He was here; he had come across the country for her. Mitchie let her gaze linger on him the longest, drinking up his familiar presence and a suppressed cheerfulness wanted to burst out and just hug the daylights out of him. She smiled again, something she had been doing a lot today. Mitchie called out to him.

"Dad!"

He looked up, evidently surprised she wasn't in the car yet. He walked over to her.

"Yes, Mitchie? Are you okay?"

"I'm alright, I guess. I just wanted to thank you for coming out here to be here for me, dad. It means so much to me.

He chuckled lightly, and pulled her close in a warm hug. It was just like the ones he used to give her as a kid. She smiled into his shirt and hugged him back, never wanting to let go of this moment.

"Mitchie, of course. What kind of a dad would I be if I just let you deal with this without me? I only wish you had called me sooner…if I had known what that boy was doing to you…but, I guess, with your mother hiding the letters you probably didn't even think I wanted to talk to you, right?"

Mitchie didn't answer. He continued.

"But, even though it was late, I'm glad you called me after all. I want to be here for you…maybe you could come live with me for a bit after this is over? You know, get away from this place?"

Mitchie looked up at her dad, he was serious.

"Dad, that would be amazing…but right now, I think I kind of want to fix up me and mom's relationship first. And, I need to get used to my old habits…with Shane gone everything will be different. Plus, now Nate's in my life, and we just started going out. I want to be around him too…and Cait…"

Her dad smiled down and her and put a finger to her lips.

"I understand, Mitchie. Just promise you'll visit me okay? I miss you. And call me too? I don't ever want you hiding anything from me again, understood?"

"For sure, daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie. Now let's go before were late. You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Mitchie nodded. The inevitable was coming, and it was only a short car ride away.

The drive to the courthouse was almost completely silent. The only noises that were audible in the car were those of the radio softly playing in the background and Caitlyn's nervous nail biting. Mitchie was sitting between Nate and Caitlyn in the back seat, and she had one of each of their hands grasped in her own. It felt good to squeeze their hands, this way she could convey to them how she felt without having to say a word. It was like a silent conversation that only the three of them could understand. Having her best friend and boyfriend surrounding her like a guard gave Mitchie assurance. They'd be there; she knew it, forever and always.

When the car pulled into the parking lot, Mitchie honestly felt like she was going to lose her mind at any second. That she was going to fall on the ground, and just scream her lungs out.

But she couldn't, she wouldn't. She was going to stay strong.

Shane had made her weak too many times. He had made her lose her mind almost everyday. But not, today. Today, for once and for all, she was going to be the winner.

Head held high, holding the hands of her best friends, Mitchie marched into the courthouse feigning readiness for what was about to come. She had to act strong even though she was falling apart. Today there were going to be no tears, no fears, just justice.

They were led into a small courtroom. No one else was there apart from themselves and a man dressed in police uniform at the front. Their lawyer had joined them just minutes prior and was now talking to Mitchie's parents. A small feeling of dread slowly crept up her throat as the lawyer led them to the front where they would be sitting. Mitchie squeezed Nate's hand tighter and looked at the ground as they walked up the aisles of seats. He squeezed back.

When they reached the front, the lawyer put a hand on Mitchie's shoulder and spoke to her in a calm, reassuring voice. It was easy to tell how nervous and scared she was.

"Don't be afraid. Just tell the truth and everything will be okay."

Mitchie attempted to smile at her, but she merely grimaced. Caitlyn gave her a huge hug and went to take her seat. Nate grabbed Mitchie's newly vacated hand with his free hand and turned to face her. She looked up at him. His eyebrows were knitted together.

"Mitchie, don't be scared, okay? Shane can't hurt you anymore. You tell them everything that happened and I mean everything, okay? Don't look at him if you don't want to, and just stay strong, baby girl. I love you."

He kissed her on the cheek. She felt an immediate flush of color spread all over her face.

"I love you too, Nate."

He smiled down at her and ruffled her hair, then went to go take his own seat.

Mitchie gulped. Everyone had taken their seats now and so she made her way up to the front to take her own beside the lawyer. Shane would be arriving any second now. Mitchie looked down at her lap, and played with her hands; anxiously waiting to see the when he'd make his arrival. The hand on her watch ticked agonizingly slow, each second seemed to be emphasized with the prospect of uncertainty.

She gulped.

And no more than a second after she had taken that gulp, the doors had swung open and in walked Shane Gray, his father, and his lawyer.

If Mitchie was nervous before, she was borderline panic attack now. Her heart seemed to _want _to burst out of her chest judging by how fast it was going. She was not, under any circumstance, going to look at him though. She knew he was looking at her though; she just had a gut feeling that he was staring her down. But she was _not_ going to look at him. That would not be good at all for her.

Mitchie heard his voice speaking to his father, and as hard she tried she couldn't block it out. And frankly, sticking your fingers in your ears so that you don't hear your ex talking, in the middle of a court room would look awfully juvenile. So she tried to focus on other things, like breathing exercises and the design on her shirt, until the man in the uniform at the front cleared his throat.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Caldwell."

The people gathered in the small room all rose, and Mitchie slowly pulled herself up as well.

A tall woman dressed in a long black cloak entered, and she walked in front of the judge's chair taking a seat on it. She was overlooking them all over the top of her glasses, and in a clear voice she said,

"You may all sit."

The courtroom all sat back down in unison, and Mitchie felt relieved to be back on a chair. It had felt like her knees were going to give out since Shane had entered the room. She continued to avoid his gaze.

"Good Morning. We have gathered today for the case of Michelle Torres, plaintiff, and Shane Gray, defendant. Is that correct?"

Mitchie looked up. She locked gazes with the judge for a moment and became utterly speechless. Her lawyer answered for her.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. The charges are listed as…"

The words coming out of the mouth of the judge were suddenly to fast to be comprehensible. They seemed to be a blur; everything was a blur. It was all happening too fast and nothing was understandable. Mitchie glanced around. Everyone seemed to grasping onto the judge's words but none of it made sense to her. She felt like she was going to be sick.

Mitchie tapped the lawyer's shoulder. She looked down at her and smiled sympathetically. The confusion must have really shown.

"Can I go to the bathroom real quick?"

"Sure, go quietly. It's right outside the room on the right."

Mitchie nodded and slowly slipped out of her seat. The judge was talking to Shane's lawyer and didn't seem to notice. She quietly left the room, throwing her parents a reassuring look when they looked up at her concernedly.

The bathroom was exactly where the lawyer had said it was. But suddenly, she felt an unexplainable need for water. So, instead, she attacked the nearest water fountain, and drank her fill until she couldn't drink a drop more. She felt better.

Making her way back into the room, Mitchie scurried back to her seat in time to see Nate coming off the stand. He had just been questioned by the lawyer and judge. Sensing that she needed encouragement because of her obvious nervousness, Nate threw her a smile and a discreet thumbs up. She giggled; he could always make her feel better.

"Ah, Miss. Torres. You've come back."

Judge Caldwell was smiling down at her. Mitchie sighed, she knew what was coming. And like this whole day and court hearing, it was completely inevitable.

"Would you please come up to the stand, sweetie? We want to ask you a few questions."

Gathering every ounce of courage she had within her, Mitchie got up from her seat once more and made her way to the stand. Every eye in the room was on her, but she couldn't dare to meet one. Watching her feet as she walked, Mitchie took a seat at the very front.

"Okay. So, Michelle, we are just going to ask you a couple questions and you answer them the best you can and truthfully, okay?"

Mitchie nodded, still not looking up from her converse.

"When did Mr. Gray start physically hurting you? How far into the relationship?"

The words didn't even register in her head. Everything in her mind was drawing a blank.

Stupidly, she croaked out,

"I don't really remember…"

There was a pause.

"That's okay. Do you remember anything in specific that he said or did to you? Did he ever threaten your life?"

Mitchie looked up at the judge and nodded.

"Yeah…um, when I was with Nate that day he tried to suffocate me."

"Yes, Nate told us that. Anything else?"

"Um," She closed her eyes. This was it; her little dark secret was about to be released into the daylight. "Well… he, uh, he r-raped me too."

There was a collective gasp. No one had known. Not even Caitlyn or Nate. The judge raised an eyebrow, Mitchie focused on her alone. She couldn't bear to meet anyone else's eyes right now, the tears had already started pricking the backs of her eyes. Seeing any form of shock or hurt on any of their faces could trigger her into sobs. She controlled herself. The judge spoke again, softer this time.

"Th-thank you, Miss Torres. I think you can go sit down again."

She got up and walked back to her seat, not meeting the eyes of any one of the people she loved. There would be plenty of time to explain, time to talk it out, but right now she had to work on keeping her tears under control. _No tears, no fears, just justice. _

The rest of the preceding was a blur, and Mitchie didn't utter a word through the whole thing. Shane hadn't been called up to the stand, and Mitchie doubted he would be, all evidence was against him. Nothing could be said in his defense, and if there was, it was a waste of breath.

So it came to no surprise, when the judge uttered the one word Mitchie had been longing to hear for ages.

"Guilty."

The celebratory screams and muffled cries of her parents, best friend and boyfriend seemed ages away as Mitchie remained apathetically seated in her chair after the verdict had been given. It didn't really matter, Shane had been guilty all along. Just because it was official now didn't make a difference. The punches had still been thrown; the screams had still been screamed. She remained quiet.

She was happy, of course, but right now, only one thing was on her mind. And that one thing was sitting with his head in his hands on the other side of the room. Mitchie got up from her seat, surprising even herself, and she walked to him, taking the now vacant seat beside him.

He lifted his head out of his hands and stared at her. She stared back at him. His once lively eyes were dead and cold and he looked at least ten years older. Silent tears were leaking out of the corners of his eyes. It was his turn to cry. Mitchie smiled at him weakly.

"I'm sorry things turned out the way they did, Shane. I'm sorry you had to change and I'm sorry you're going to jail. But one thing I'm not sorry for, is for you abusing me. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have Nate in my life or my dad back in it. The temporary pain was worth it for the way things are now. Have a nice life, Shane Gray."

And with that, Mitchie strutted out of the courtroom, ready to begin a new chapter in her life.

* * *

**REVIEW PLEASE :)**


	13. Sweet Seventeen

**A/N: Well, here it is. The very last chapter of** Screaming With My Mouth Shut. **I am aware of the fact that this took me immensly long to post (how very rude of me), but this was the hardest chapter to write by far. Probably because it's the last chapter, and because I want it to be good. I hope it is! This is a very long chapter, my longest by far, but bear with me and read it through! Hopefully you will not be disappointed! I have to say though, that I got pretty sad by the end of this because it is definitely over (no sequel!) and I had so much fun writing it. But, I hope to be writing a new story soon, but until then, satisfy yourselves with my two other oneshots! WELL HERE WE GO! On to the last chapter of **Screaming With My Mouth Shut!

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, Camp Rock, or Open by Demi Lovato.**

Chapter 13

Sweet Seventeen

It's midnight. Exactly midnight. And Mitchie Torres is lying awake in her soft bed holding her cell phone in her hand. Well, she's barely awake. Sleep is threatening to overcome her like a plague and her eyes are drooping closed as the ticking of her clock plays a hypnotizing beat to her slow breathing. The comforter is so warm and the branches of the trees outside are still from a non-existent breeze, and everything around her is playing host to a sleepy atmosphere. It's just dark enough and the strips of moonlight peeking out from the spaces in between her blinds are dancing on her face. Mitchie is happy, over the moon happy, and she's been feeling this way for a while. She likes this feeling.

Since _he's _been gone, things in Mitchie's life seem to just get better and better. Slowly, old habits and routines are coming back into play and she's found that she isn't living in constant fear anymore. Back when Mitchie was with _him_, everyday she would wake up in fear, she would work her day in fear and she would go to sleep in fear, and usually, pain. But since _he's _been completely erased, like the delete button on a keyboard, the days seem to go by in bliss and happiness and calmness. Mitchie's feels strong, she feels…happy. And unlike before, she wouldn't trade her life for anything. She hasn't felt like dying for a very long time and it feels good. _Mitchie_ feels good.

As of two and a half minutes ago, it is officially the last day of summer vacation and it is officially Mitchie's birthday. Surprisingly though, turning seventeen feels a lot different than any other birthday. Starting a new year of her life with a fresh new start, a new boyfriend, and a new outlook on life, Mitchie feels older…more experienced. Sure, some aspects of her life don't change, like her best friend, Caitlyn Gellar, and her amazing parents, Connie and Steve, and the fact that she still has to go back to that same high school in just one day, but seventeen just feels different; good different.

Her cell phone buzzes in her palm and Mitchie is jerked awake. She squints at the clock, 12:04. They're late. She hits the talk without checking caller ID, she already knows who it is.

"Hey there, Delilah. You guys are late." She smiles; her voice is hoarse and thick with sleep. She's not really upset, she's just happy they called.

"Well, Hello Beautiful. I'm sorry, it's all Cait's fault. She didn't pick up on time."

"Ew, do we _have _to do song greetings everytime one of us calls? And it's not my fault Nate! I was supposed to call you, not the other way around…"

Mitchie grinned at her boyfriend and best friend bickering. The wonders of three-way calling.

"Shut up why don't you, Gellar? We're forgetting about Mitchie!"

"Oh right, sorry Mitchie… on three then? One, two, three…"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY MITCHIE!"

Mitchie felt like her ear drum had just been blown out, but the feeling of elation filling her up that second was overpowering the twinge in her ear. She whispered,

"That was very loud, but thank you guys. Can you believe it? I'm seventeen!"

Caitlyn was the first to reply, "No problem, sweetie. Any ideas what you want to do today?"

"Hm, I'm not sure… I actually never thought about it…"

"We figured that…" Nate chuckled. Mitchie could just see the smirk on his cute face. She felt the blush creep up her cheeks. "So that's why we made plans for you!"

"What? What plans did you make?"

Caitlyn laughed mischievously, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. Your mom knows all about it. Just be dressed by 8 pm, okay? Wear something…fancy but casual."

"Gee thanks, Cait. That's really helpful."

She laughed again. "Whatever. I'm going to go to sleep now, I had a soccer game today and I am pooped. 'Night guys. Happy Birthday, Mitch."

"Goodnight."

Caitlyn's line cut off and then it was just Nate and Mitchie.

"So…Nate, can you just tell me what you guys have planned? Please?"

"No way, Mitchie. I'm sure you'll love it though, so don't worry okay? I love you. Goodnight."

She sighed. "Love you too. Goodnight, Nate."

Mitchie hung up her phone and placed it on her bedside table, feeling more awake then ever. Anything Nate and Caitlyn planned together definitely made her worry, but she was not getting any information out of them. Maybe she could try and get her mom to spill…

She settled back down into her covers and pulled the blanket over her head. Oh well, she'll just have to wait until tomorrow…

It had felt like only seconds had passed when Mitchie was awoken to someone jumping on her bed…and her.

"Get up, birthday girl! Get up!"

Reluctantly, Mitchie lowered the covers off her head and peered out. The blinding sunlight pouring in through her window forced her to squint to see her overexcited mother jumping on her bed. She groaned.

"Mom, do you really have to wake me up like this _every _birthday?"

Connie stopped jumping but continued to grin at her daughter like Cheshire cat. Her perkiness was a bit too much to deal with first thing in the morning for Mitchie. She threw the comforter back over her head, squeezing her eyes shut forcibly and willing herself to fall back asleep. Birthday, or no birthday; perky moms in the morning are never a good thing.

"I'm sorry, Mitchie, I'm just excited for my baby's birthday! And… I made Connie's Famous Choco-Chip Pancakes!"

Mitchie lowered the blanket again and stared intently at her mother, one eyebrow raised. "Mom… I'm not a baby anymore! I'm seventeen…and besides the 'choco-chip' stuff is so kindergarten."

Connie's smile only seemed to widen. "They're in the shape of _hearts_, though!"

Seeing the genuine excitement of heart-shaped pancakes plastered on her mother's face couldn't keep the small smile creeping up on her own. Mitchie rolled her eyes playfully and said,

"Okay mommy, I'll be down in five minutes. Just let me brush my teeth."

Her mother climbed of her bed chuckling. "Mommy? You haven't called me that since you were eight!"

Once Mitchie heard her mom's footsteps retreat all the way down the stairs, she shot out of bed and raced to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Truthfully, her mom's pancakes were her favorite food of all time, and since she hadn't had some in a while, her stomach was aching for a bite. Hurriedly brushing her teeth and hair, Mitchie could smell the pancakes wafting through the air, calling her name. It was driving her insane, flying down the stairs, she settled herself at the kitchen table with a pile of steaming pancakes. Mitchie stared at them monstrously, before stuffing the whole top pancake into her mouth.

Connie clicked her tongue unapprovingly, but Mitchie could see the satisfied smirk on her face that meant she was secretly pleased that her favorite critic was content. She swallowed down the pancake forcefully before asking the question that was glued in her mind.

"So, uh, mom?" She tried to sound casual. "What are we, er, doing tonight?"

Connie raised an eyebrow at her daughter and peered over the top of her newspaper to see her face.

"Nu-uh! Caitlyn warned me you would try to weasel information out of me! Well, you'll just have to be patient and wait and see!"

"Come on, mom! It's my birthday! You could tell me as a birthday present!"

Her mother's eyes widened at the end of her sentence. "Present! I forgot to give you your present!"

Connie scurried away from the table muttering something Mitchie couldn't understand nor hear. Mitchie took another, much smaller, bite of her pancakes and waited for her mother to come back. It was agonizing. What could it be?

A few minutes later, Connie came back into the kitchen, the same grin from this morning plastered on her face. Mitchie looked up eagerly.

"Well? Where is it, mom?"

Connie held up a hand, indicating patience. It was obvious she was hiding something big and black behind her and Mitchie was trying hard to decipher what it was.

"Before I give it to you, I just want to say this is from me _and _your father. Make sure you thank him too, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, mom! Can I have it now? Please?"

Connie chuckled and then dragged out the object from behind her back, clear hope for approval written all over her face. Mitchie's jaw dropped.

It couldn't be. But it was. It was there, sitting in front of her, begging to be opened. Connie bit her lip, waiting for a reaction.

"Mom…for real?"

"Of course! I knew you always wanted a new one, instead of using your grandfather's, your dad and I paid half each to get you that one you love!"

Mitchie couldn't believe it. A new acoustic guitar. Brand new. And it was all hers. She reached out to gingerly touch the case latch. Her mom prodded her on.

"Go on, open it!" Mitchie could tell the anticipation was high on both ends. She bit her lip and slowly unlatched the case, releasing the new instrument to her prying eyes. She bit back a scream of joy.

The polished wood exterior glistened in the sunlight streaming through the window. The strings pulled tight, emitted a perfect pitch at the slightest touch and notes seemed to bounce off the walls. Mitchie took out of the case gently, and then resting it on her knee, played a soft tune as though it had been hers for years. Connie smiled at her daughter's quiet excitement.

The day seemed to dissolve with Mitchie writing and finishing a new song. She stayed locked in her room, ignoring all phone calls and eating in between chords, just because she was determined to finish it before her birthday surprise. Truthfully, this had been her first desire to write a song in a long time. And it seemed to end up being about the boy she thought she'd never think of again; Shane. Although it took only a short while to finish, that song held so much pain and bad memories but it was nice to have it out and gone from inside her. It felt like she was free at last from every thought and tear about that boy. That boy, who she remembered wistfully, was probably sitting in jail that very minute.

Seven o clock came and went and soon so did seven thirty. A sharp banging on her door awoke Mitchie from her daydream.

"Mitchie! We're leaving in ten minutes! Are you ready?"

Mitchie fearfully looked down at her pajamas and untidy hair. She gulped. Oh no.

"Uh, yeah, mom! Almost." She put her guitar aside and jumped to her closet. "_Shit!_"

Pulling out a silver sequined top, and a pair of black skinny jeans, Mitchie dressed in record time. She moved to her mirror and swiped on eyeliner, mascara and pink lip gloss, and ran a brush quickly through her hair. Mitchie looked in the mirror on last time, and then, grabbing her purse, she bolted out the door and made it downstairs within 8 minutes. She caught her breath and appeared to look lively and not so worn out, as that was how she was feeling. Her mom smiled at her.

"You look great, sweetie! Let's go then."

The car ride was short, and soon the mother and daughter had arrived at a nearby Chinese restaurant, that just happened to be her favorite. She smiled thinking of more good food.

"I love this place!"

Her mom smiled knowingly down at her. She parked the car and got out, along with her bouncy daughter. "I know, I know."

They walked up the path. "Truth be told though mom, it was kind of obvious! I mean, where else would we go?"

"Mhm, Mitchie."

"Of course. It is my favorite." They had reached the door now and Mitchie was pulling the door handle. "I mean can you say, predictabl-AH!"

"SURPRISE!"

A crowd of teenagers, all about Mitchie's age, were crowded inside the restaurant. Her jaw dropped. Had all of these people really come to wish her a happy birthday? Camera flashes blinded Mitchie as she slowly made her way inside the restaurant, awestruck. They were all there, all her friends, family, her dad, classmates and smiley waiters. Her mom prodded her on with slight push, and Mitchie wove her way through the large crowd, smiling and thanking all who wished her a happy birthday. She felt blustered, but excited. Nate waited at the back of the crowd with Caitlyn, wearing identical smirks.

"You guys did all of this for me?" She was breathless. Mitchie had never felt more loved than she did this very minute.

"Of course, Mitchie! We love you!" Caitlyn answered, the smirk playing on her lips not fading. "And, to prove how much I love you, I wore this horrid _dress _for you."

Mitchie giggled and flung herself into their arms. "Thank you so much guys. For everything."

She raised her head to look both of them in the eyes, her own silently filling with tears. "Everything this past year, I mean. Without you two, I'm sure I wouldn't be close to as happy as I am right now. It was like a living hell with the devil, and you two got me out. Thank you so much."

Their two faces mirrored an identical look; full of deep understanding only the three of them could fully appreciate. Nate nodded, his jaw set and his expression hard, but his eyes full of concern and care. Caitlyn tightened her grip around her other two friends and fought to stay strong, there was no way she would cry on her best friend's birthday. Mitchie smiled and relaxed her grip.

"What are we getting all sad for? Let's have some fun. Come on guys."

She extended her two hands and Nate took one, while Caitlyn grasped the other, and all three made their way into the high adrenaline crowd, feeling unstoppable.

The night flew by in a series of dancing and presents and all-you-can-eat buffet food. Cameras flashed pictures of the birthday girl from every corner and angle and Mitchie was having the night of her life. Tonight just made her feel strong and loved and free and she felt like everything bad that had ever happened to her never did. Like all the pain, and suffering she'd been through had been a terrible nightmare and she had finally woken up, never to fall asleep again. She was high on life, enjoying every second, every breath and every beat of the music pumping so loudly in her ears she felt deaf. Tonight was the night, she told herself, that would be the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another, a fresh start.

Around ten thirty, the music stopped. Connie came onto the mini stage where the DJ was set up with a microphone in her hand. The crowd immediately hushed, all the hundreds of eyes now peering up at the woman on stage. Connie smiled.

"Well, it looks like you guys are having fun! That's great, because we have a special treat for you all right now. Mitchie, our birthday girl, as you all probably know, has a beautiful singing voice."

Heads turned to look at Mitchie, whose face suddenly went hot. She squeezed Nate's hand.

"Mitchie's dad and I gave Mitchie a beautiful new acoustic guitar this morning for her birthday. And she went straight to her room, and began to work on a new song. She hasn't written for ages, it was a good feeling to hear my daughter singing again, something she loves so deeply."

Mitchie suddenly wanted to run and hide. Her mom had heard her song, and she was telling this crowd of virtual strangers all about it. It was private, it was hers. No one was supposed to know about it. She felt violated. Nate pulled Mitchie closer.

"When I heard her singing a wonderful idea came into my mind. Mitchie, if she agrees, is going to sing her new song for all of you. I have her new guitar backstage, ready to use. So, Mitchie?"

Her mother was looking at her, along with every other prying eye in the room. Mitchie's feet were frozen to the ground. Her heart had stopped beating, and suddenly the world was spinning. It was deathly quiet, not even a single, excited breath could be heard. She couldn't move of speak. Nate breathed in her ear,

"Go."

She turned to look at him; Nate gave her a reassuring smile. "Go and sing your heart out. I haven't heard you since camp. You'll be amazing."

Mitchie looked at Caitlyn, who nodded. She took a deep, calming breath and then, slowly, began to walk to the front of the crowd to the stage. A path was cleared for her, and smiles were thrown her way but Mitchie didn't have the strength to smile back. She was scared. The last time she had sung in front of anyone was at Final Jam, when she was with Shane. The thought of him made her feel numb, and disconnected. The walk to the stage was agonizingly long.

She finally reached the stage, and shakily took the mic from her mom. Connie hugged Mitchie briefly before moving out of the way. The stage was empty now, the room still quiet. This was it. The defining moment of her life. To sing or not to sing?

Mitchie sat on a stool in the center of the stage, and clumsily, attached the mic to its stand. Her guitar was pressed into her hands by someone or other, and the cool wooden surface felt slightly comforting. She looked into the audience. The eyes were as menacing as ever, and the silence deafening. She plucked a string.

The note rung aloud in the quiet room like a bullet in the dead of night. The chord sounded perfect, in tune, and Mitchie knew she couldn't hold this moment off any longer. She closed eyes and took a deep breath.

"This song was only written this morning, so it's pretty rough. It's written about a very difficult time in my life. As some of you probably know, or have whispered about, Shane Gray, my ex-boyfriend, used to hit me. He would yell at me, call me names, and punch, slap or kick any inch of me he could reach."

The silence in the room didn't break. Every ear was clinging onto Mitchie's words and only her shaky breathing in the mic could be heard.

"But because of my family, Mom and Dad, my best friend, Caitlyn, and my new boyfriend, Nate, I was able to get away from him. Away from the fear, and sleepless nights, and days that were measured only by when I would have to see him. I'm no longer only a shadow of myself. I'm smiling and laughing and living again, things I thought I'd never do as long he was there. Shane will always be a part of my life, but that part is my past. And this song is for him."

She opened her eyes and looked around at all the different faces in the crowd before opening her mouth and singing for the first time in a long time.

_"Spitting fire back and forth now  
Times have changed in just a few months  
Neighbors complaining from the fights and  
Why can't things be the same _

_And maybe I'm just a little bit cautious  
Of what I'm gonna say  
When I tell you I can't live this way.  
But I don't know what to expect from someone who's so insane_

_Why can't I get through the night  
Without another fight  
I'm tired of the hurting  
Is it really worth it?  
Am I all alone again?  
Cause I am kinda feeling like I'm screaming  
With my mouth shut  
When it's really open._

_The only noises in my head  
Are consumed of your voice  
From all the pain and hatred  
How long can you kick somebody down  
Before a foot breaks?_

_And why can't I get through the night  
Without another fight  
I'm tired of the hurting  
Is it really worth it?  
Am I all alone again cause  
I am kinda feeling like I'm screaming  
With my mouth shut when it's really open.  
Spitting fire back and forth now  
Times have changed in just a few months."_

_And I knew that you would fabricate  
This situation just for  
The sake of your need for attention  
And I'm sick of always being the one  
To always break down, always melt down  
In the end.  
And maybe this time  
It's a sign that independance and I  
Are finally catching on  
I don't need you to rely on._

_And why can't I get through the night  
Without another fight I'm tired of the hurting  
Is it really worth it?  
Am I all alone again cause  
I am kinda feeling like I'm screaming  
With my mouth shut  
When it's really open."_

The applause was deafening, but Mitchie couldn't hear it. All she could hear was a distant, blissful buzzing in her ears. She couldn't see anything, but because her vision was blocked by a waterfall of tears, that gracefully cascaded down her cheeks, landing on her guitar with soft thuds. She felt full and she felt happy, beyond happy, ecstatic. Mitchie had just opened her heart and her mind for the world to observe and criticize, and for once, she wasn't ashamed of what she had to show. She was proud. Her song was her story, her words, and her pain. Mitchie could feel again, and right now she felt a great rush of everything; she was on top the world.

She guessed sweet sixteen, could never be that sweet for her. This past year would probably be the toughest and most testing year in her whole life. Constantly, she'd have to be reminded of the hurt, the memories, and the ultimate sense of being so hopelessly alone and pathetically broken. Human emotion would get the better of her one day and she'd still cry or hurt thinking about it, about Shane, but she knew nothing, or no one, could ever hurt her that way again. Mitchie had love, and family, and music to get her through the bad days, to pick her up when she fell down. The time she had spent with Shane had been like living in a dark hole that got deeper each day, until the victim inside of it could no longer climb out on their own. But going through what she had, ultimately Mitchie built her strength and climbed out of that hole, along with a few helping hands. She vowed to herself that she would never go back. Never, never, never.

Maybe she had met Shane for a reason. Maybe he was supposed to come into her life and completely ruin it, just so that she could pick up all those pieces and put them back together again. Mitchie would always be thankful to him in weird way. Because if he had not broken her, she'd have never been this strong. She'd never have learned to live, learn, love and trust. Mitchie could never look at herself in the mirror and be proud of what she saw. She could never have that burning desire to never give up, and pursue her dreams and live each and every day to the fullest with the people she loved. Mitchie could never do those things if he had not hurt her like he did. Without having Shane Gray in her life, Mitchie Torres would not be sitting in front of this screaming crowd, drinking in this perfect moment, knowing that from this day on, she was going to be completely and fully okay. She'd have not experienced this deafening clapping and cheering, this breathlessness from singing her heart out, and this odd tingling of her fingers from strumming that last note on her new guitar. And someway, somehow, these few simplicities she felt while sitting there with her guitar on stage, seemed to make all those bruises worth it.

_If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship_

_call the __**National Teen Dating Abuse Hotline **__at _

_866-331-8453, or_

_go to is loveisrespect__.org_

_Get help and stay strong,_

_you're not in this alone. _

* * *

**Please review! :)**

**That's it my dears! I had a great time writing this, and I hope you all had just of a great time reading it. I love you all and thank you for sticking with me until the very end!**

**-TheVoiceInMyHead**


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